


A Ship on the Sea of Madness

by LordFlausch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ... okay this turned out to evolve, ALL THE ANGST, Angst, Crying, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I might have rewritten Episode 5 a bit, Maybe a bit OOC for both but oh well, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, Sexual Tension, Trauma, also, now presenting: fix-it fic with Danyara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-03-08 00:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18884434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: Set after Dany's and Jon's talk in Season 8, Episode 5. Basically a better turn of events that includes a certain Gayjoy.Further summary in the notes because I don't want to spoiler everyone who didn't watch it yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I believe if someone had been there for Daenerys, helping her to deal with the losses and all of that shit, King's Landing would never have happened.  
> Soooo... Yara to the rescue. Because both deserve it.

When the door fell into it's place behind her, a part of her broke.  
She managed to hold herself together until she reached her own chamber, her Unsullied casting worried glances, but not stepping in due to the look on her face.  
It was only in the safety of her own chambers that she allowed her facade to crumble. Bit by bit.  
She couldn't even make out all of the emotion within her.

Grief.  
Betrayal.  
Loneliness.  
Rage.  
Sadness.  
Hate.  
Loss.  
Vindictiveness.  
She understood her father's aspiration to see the world burn.  
She knew that was not who she was.  
But it didn't matter.  
Nothing really mattered.  
Jon had betrayed her. Varys had betrayed her. Missandei was dead. Rhaegal was dead. Grey Worm as grief-struck as her. Tyrion, proving himself short-sighted time after time. He was loyal now, but for how long? 

She bore her face within her hands, unsure how to handle the mess that was her emotions, unable to see a single good thing in her life.

The people wouldn't love her.  
She wasn't Mhisa anymore.  
And she could never be.

She wanted to scream. Hide somewhere. Throw herself off of a cliff and into the sea. Burn everything to the ground.

She didn't realize she had started crying until she felt a tear roll down her wrist.  
And once started, she could not stop. Ugly sobs wrenched themselves from her mouth, and she more than once heard her guard from the door ask if everything was okay. She never replied.  
When the door opened and a concerned Unsullied looked inside, she screamed at him to leave her alone.  
And he did, looking terrified.

Yes, fear.  
Fear brought obedience.  
Fear brought her so much.  
Fear could bring her the throne.  
But at what cost?  
… but what was there even left to pay? She had payed too much. Her allies and friends, turning against her. Her children dying. Her love only bringing pain.  
She despised the circumstances, and she despised feeling the way she did.  
She wasn't a girl.  
She was a queen.  
But do queens ever feel so weak?  
With all of their ire and despair crushing on them, without a way to stop?

She stopped crying, instead only shaking and sobbing on a dry throat. Moving from her position, she decided to go out and breathe on the balcony. Maybe that would help. Just as she reached out to the door, hurried steps sounded on the hallway, followed by an angry voice. She turned towards the sound, preparing to scream at yet another guard.  
The door to her chamber busted open, and it died on her lips.

Yara locked eyes with her, looking pleased for a moment and then worried, before their contact is broken by a guard entering.  
But before he could say anything, Daenerys' raised hand stopped him. 

“Had I not told you to leave me alone?”

“I... She... she just appeared, another guard behind her, and demanded to see you.”

“And you let her?”

“We didn't have much of a choice. She said it was urgent.”

She turned towards the now smirking Greyjoy, eyes narrowed.

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

She nodded at her guards, prompting them to leave. With a bow, they did.

“I already know you retook the Iron Islands. My congratulations.”

“Was easier than raiding a coast village. Euron didn't leave much to their defense.”

“I heard you took them for me?

“I thought, if you lose the war up there, you might need a refuge they cannot reach.”

”How... considerate.”

Yara huffed.

“I have the Salt Throne now, but I'd still like your help with murdering that one Uncle.”

“I promised you, did I not?”

She walked back to her chair, taking a seat.

“As I said, I already know that. What other matter is urgent?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“I wanted to greet you personally, of course.”

“And that is all?”

“Not entirely. I brought you the 10 ships that were stationed there.”

“Thank you, I believe they will prove useful. Although I am concerned, last time you brought me a hundred.”

The Ironborn chuckled, admitting her point.

“That's not all. I also brought you the tongues of some people who insulted you to my face. Said you'd just turn out like your father.”

A chuckle escaped Daenerys herself.

“What a thoughtful gift.” 

It was always that easy with Yara. Even the silence afterwards was comfortable. A part of her enjoyed the company, another wanted to scream at her. For whatever reason, she swallowed it down.

“Are you alright?”

“What?”

“You looked pretty shaken when I came in.”

“I am fine, I can assure you.”

Yara looked at her. In her eyes, she saw the Grejoy knew she's lying. But she didn't impose.  
Daenerys cherished that.  
The silence after that felt more tense, even though Yara stepped away to look out of the window.

“Nice view you've got here.”

Despite herself, she smiled.  
It was unusual of Yara, even sweet, to consider her feelings that way. Maybe the silence had felt equally tense for her. Or maybe she was just hoping to be sent away. Maybe she would end up betraying her as well, now that she basically had what she wanted. While fear raised up in Daenerys, she quickly masked that with a smile.

“I do have.”

Yara turned back to smile at her.

“I have another.”

The fears died down a little when the flirtation she grew accustomed to started again, and she smiled.

“Why did I know you would do that?”

A chuckle, followed by a wink.

“Maybe you just know me well.”

“Do I?”

Yes. She would test her. See where her loyalties lie.  
Yara took a moment to consider her question, then nodded.

“I think so. Now that Theon is... fallen, you're...”

Yara took a deep breath, pressing her eyes together, her fists clenching. Without another word, Daenerys got up to stand beside her.

“They told me how he died. Wrote a letter to Pyke. Defended the Stark kid from that Bastard. He didn't even get to know we won.”

“He was a good man, and a great loss for all of us. He died with honor.”

“He was a weak, spoiled brat. Then he was an idiot. Then he was broken and lost.”

“And then, he found his way back to you. And helped you find your way to me.”

“He was my brother.”

If she hadn't looked to the side at that time, she'd have missed the tear rolling down Yara's cheek.

“I am so sorry.”

“It isn't your fault.”

Yara laughed, but dryly, without humor.

“I let him go there. If I hadn't...”

“Then he might have died at Pyke. He might have lived, still. But we do not know.”

“If I could, I would...”

“Go back and retake that decision?”

Yara huffed again. 

“Maybe. I don't know. He wanted to make right what he did wrong. He gave his life for... what's his name?”

“Not only for him. He gave his life for all of ours. We shall honor him for it.”

“I hope the people did so at his funeral.”

“I did it in your stead.”

This time, a real smile slipped onto Yara's features.

“Did you tell him he's still an idiot?”

“No, I told him he was the honorable man he always wanted to be. I told him you would be proud of him for giving his life to right a wrong he committed years ago.”

Stunned, the Grejoy turned to her.

“And you doubted you know me.”

“So, I do?”

“For fuck's sake, I talked to you about Theon and I haven't done that with anyone I know. So yes, you do. You know more of me than my crew.”

Now, it was her turn to be speechless. The doubt that had festered in her mind withered away. 

“I will cherish that.”

Yara snorted, rolling her eyes, falling back into silence.  
For a moment, Daenerys caught herself thinking about telling Yara what had happened to her. How she felt. But she pushed that thought away. The Ironborn would surely exploit that knowledge and turn it against her.  
As her thoughts spiraled downwards, when the fears clawed at her again, she panicked. Her rage, her sorrow came back onto her, crashing over like a wave.  
She froze. Taking quick, panicked breaths.

“Daenerys?”

She didn't quite notice Yara turning towards her. Or placing a hand on her shoulder.  
It was too much. Too much at once. At one moment she wanted to scream, sobbing at the next, hiding in the one after. 

“...my queen?”

That was it.  
That one sentence sent her mind on fire. And into darkness.

“Do not call me that.”

“But you are.”

“I am? Like the queen of Varys? Of Sansa? Of Jon Snow?”

She spew that last name with something akin to disgust, shaking. In that moment, Yara spun around and took her shoulders. 

“Daenerys. What happened?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“And why?”

“You'll just run off with that. You'll betray me too. You'll use that knowledge to undermine my claim and support him too, won't you?”

Her voice turned to ice, and her eyes glow with rage.

“Support whom?”

“Jon Snow.”

“What? Why would I?”

Yes. Test her more. If she fails, have her killed.

“His claim is bigger. He's Rhaegar's son.”

The silence to that is deafening.

“... Unexpected. But seriously, I don't care about that. The king on the Salt Throne is voted upon. Claims do play a part, but look how the last one played out.”

The turmoil ebbs a little. The sadness stays.

“You won't betray me?”

“You made me sail my ships to another continent. You made me promise the Ironborn would find a new way of life and gave me hope for their future. You helped me survive Euron. So why, the fuck, should I support anyone else when I have the best possible queen right in front of me?”

In that moment, something inside of her broke. Tears spilled from her eyes, and when she closed them, she suddenly felt two strong arms wrapped around her.  
Despite everything, she felt safe.  
And so, she let go.  
She cried out her sorrow into Yara's shoulders, held her tighter when waves or rage and hatred overcome her, clawed her hands when the grief strikes.  
She didn't know how long they stay there.  
She only felt Yara's arms around her, never leaving, instead tightening, rubbing soothing circles on her back.  
When her tears dried out, the Greyjoy keeps holding her through the sobs afterwards, until she steps back herself, wiping her eyes and taking a shaky breath. She looked into Yara's eyes, expecting to find mockery or annoyance, but instead a rather soft look.  
Silence.  
Uncomfortable silence.  
Until Yara huffed again, rubbing the back of her head.

“One of your guards came looking twice. I sent him away.”

She smiled, simply, and Yara wiped a streak of tears away from her face.

“Shit, I'm... I'm not good at this. But if you... if you want to talk, I will listen.”

She nodded, taking a few relaxing breaths to calm down, and turned to the window again. The following silence was not as uncomfortable.  
Yara respected it, waiting patiently for her to either dismiss her or say something.  
The silence stretched, and more than once, she saw Yara fidgeting with her hands, as if she was unsure if she should comfort her more. It made something in her feel warm. Before the doubts could manifest once again, she spoke.

“Yara?”

“Yes?”

“If someone killed your child and your best friend, what would you do? If your advisers turned against you to instead side with a man that already bent the knee and swore he loved me?”

The Greyjoy took a moment to think about her words.

“That's... a lot.”

A humorless smile rushed over her face.

“Why, I was not aware of that.”

Yara chuckled. 

“What do you want to talk about first? I mean, I'm not the best, but I'll keep your secrets. I swear by the Drowned God. And my ships.”

“That alone already makes you better than a certain Northerner...”

She sighed. 

“It is so much. I do not know where to start.”

“Well, then let's talk about Cersei first. She killed Rhaegal? And Missandei?”

“Euron killed my child and captured Missandei... Cersei let her head cut off when I demanded her surrender.”

“Fuck.”

Yara shook her head.

“I swear I'm gonna tear that shithead's heart out and bring it to you on a silver platter.”

“Whose?”

“Euron's. Cersei is yours to burn.”

“Generous. Although I want to see them all burn. Cersei. Her soldiers. Her advisers. Every. Last. One.”

“How? I thought you wanted to siege the capital?”

“I have a dragon left and it's time I stayed true to my houses words. Fire and Blood, isn't it?”

“Wait. Daenerys. Are you planning to burn the city?”

“I'm planning to free it.”

“By burning it.”

She smiled painfully.

“I will free it from the oppression it faces. I will make way for the next generations to flourish. Cersei thinks our mercy is our weakness, but it is not. I will show mercy to the future.”

Yara remains speechless for a moment.

“May I speak freely?”

“If you must.”

“The plan is the worst idea I've ever heard, and I've been at Euron's ship for weeks. Although part of me appreciates you considering the plan I suggested what feels like ages ago, this is not you. You told me yourself you wouldn't be Queen of the Ashes.”

“While most of my advisers said I should be.”

“But you never were. You never burned the innocent. You freed the slaves-”

“They freed themselves.”

“Not entirely. Without you, they never would have. You inspired them to reach for their rights. If you hadn't been there, they never would've dared. Tell me, what can you inspire in a charred corpse?”

“Fear.”

Yara shrugged.

“Fear is good, I admit. Loyalty is better. You can't sow that if you burn their home and kill their children.”

“Aren't your house's words 'We do not sow'?”

“They are. But we will now, thanks to you. Suppose we'll need new ones. Maybe 'We now sow thanks to the Dragon Queen'.”

“That's a bit long, is it not?”

Yara laughs, dryly.

“Maybe. It's not on the priority list right now.”

“What is, then?”

“Making you queen of the living, of course.”

“The living? Does that include the Iron Islands?”

“I... maybe. I asked for my independence and you gave it. But if that's what it takes to stop you from burning the capital, I'll negotiate.”

“You show an awful lot of care for people who cheered as you were dragged there in chains.”

“Them? I don't really care about them. I care about you. They would call you the mad queen. The tongues I ripped out would prove right and I can't really bear that thought. They wouldn't follow you. They wouldn't be loyal to you.”

“They would fear me.”

“They already do. You burned Varys for going behind your back. You have a fucking dragon and you killed their army in one battle. Why do you think they hide in King's Landing? Don't make them hate you, too. If you burn the city, do you really think they would back your claim against Jon's?”

“They wouldn't dare speak up.”

“A certain usurper proved that wrong to the face of your father.”

Her fists clenched. That blow had struck. Yara seemed to notice and her face softened. The Ironborn reached out with a hand, but let it sink again.

“Listen, I understand. Fuck, if I was in your situation, I'd be more then tempted to just burn it all and be over with this shit. But that won't bring back anyone. You promised the world to leave it better than you found it. Repeating your ancestor's mistakes won't break the wheel.”

Silence.  
Tense silence. 

“This isn't you, Daenerys. You care about the folk. This is your grief, your rage. The queen I met would never do that.”

“Maybe that queen has changed.”

“Maybe she has. But she can change again and keep her promise to the world.”

She felt the tears only when they streamed down her face. Yara turned to her and took a shaky breath.

“When I tried to rescue Theon from the jerk who broke him, I didn't find my brother. I found a weak thing, torn apart. I left him to his fate. To his torment.”

The Greyjoy closed her eyes, inhaling again.

“I won't make that mistake another time. I won't leave you, too.”

“You made him the honorable man he died.”

“I helped him become that.”

This time, it was her to start the embrace. She wrapped her arms around the Ironborn, clinging to her like she was a rock. Shaking. But those strong arms held her. Her bastion against the turmoil. Her ship on the sea of madness.

“Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you'll have me.”

“Will you join me in battle?”

“Of course. Shit, I'd ride that dragon if that's what it took.”

“He may not let you.”

“Then I'll make the world's finest dragon snack.”

“I am sure you would.”

She felt the body against her vibrate with the husky laughter she came to adore. 

“I wouldn't want to test that, though.”

“I rather had you alive as well.”

“Don't say things like that.”

“And why not?”

“Nothing.”

She places her hand against the iron chestplate.

“Why not?”

A sigh from above.

“Because I need to keep up my image of being the toughest bitch on all of the seven seas.”

“And I make that hard?”

“More than you think.”

She can't help but smile at that. Stepping back from the embrace, she lets her expression show to Yara.

“And what do you suggest once we've taken the capital?”

“You climbing the throne, of course.”

“And if the people demand it'll be Jon?”

“They won't. They will see what kind of a queen you are. Righteous. Generous. Inspiring. And you also instill the right amount of respect and fear. People believe in you. People love you.”

“The people of this country don't love me.”

“Some do. Make the rest see why.”

When she looked up at Yara, the Ironborn met her gaze. She averted her eyes.

“The last man who told me he loves me betrayed me.”

“You can't be that bad of a kisser.”

“Yara Greyjoy!”

The laugh coming from next to her was nothing short of it's usual humor, and she couldn't help but smile.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. What a jerk. What do you plan to do with him?”

“I don't know. Part of me wants to punish him, but I cannot.”

“Do you love him?”

“I am not sure. Not any longer. Too much has happened.”

The Greyjoy nods. 

“You can figure that out once you've killed Cersei.”

“I suppose. Still, there's the thing he has a higher claim than I. A male heir to the throne... the people of Westeros would surely back him once they know.”

“I am not going to comment on how weird it is to fuck your nephew.”

“I didn't know at that time.”

“Well, with Cersei and Jaime, this one's almost tame in comparison.”

She sighed, shaking her head.  
While it was not unsusual to marry siblings within her family, part of it just felt wrong.

“How did he betray you, anyway?”

“He bent the knee and then spread the word of his heritage.”

“That's... rough.”

“He told it to his family. They told it to my advisers, making Varys work against me.”

“Shit. Fuck men. You've proven yourself a leader often enough.”

“Are the people of Westeros going to support me if they know?

“Remind them he bent the knee and supports your claim.”

“And that will work?”

“I don't know. Worked when Theon supported mine during the Kingsmoot.”

“And still you lost.”

Yara huffed.

“Of course, remind me. But actually... see? Proves that even a lower claim can win over the people.”

“But how do I?”

“Win over Westeros?”

She nodded.

“How did you win over the Unsullied? The people of Dragon's Bay? The Dothraki? Us?”

“By showing them their brighter future.”

“Then do the same for them. Without too much fire, though.”

This time, she chuckled, playfully hitting Yara's chestplate.

“And if it doesn't work?”

“Oh, it will. If not, well, you can always just kill Jon and make it look like an accident.”

“That is no constructive solution.”

“Says the woman who planned to burn King's Landing.”

“Oh, shut up. You successfully brought me away from that.”

“And I didn't even have to offer my throne.”

“You still can if you want.”

She winked, and Yara chuckled.

“I need to have something in my pocket to negotiate. Can't give you more ships at the moment.”

“You could always offer your hand in marriage.”

A single glance passed between them before both began laughing. 

“So that would be a benefit for your crown?”

“The Iron Islands and their fleet? Indeed.”

“Well, their queen is already loyal to you, so no need to turn to such drastic measures.”

“If I remember correctly, it was you who said you're up for anything.”

“Trust me, I still am.”

Still smiling, she shook her head, thoughts turning serious again. Yara sensed the change in atmosphere and looked at her. She met her gaze, holding it. 

“You back my claim?”

“Always.”

“You'll help me defend it?”

“Against anyone in your way.”

“And if we lose?”

“We won't, but I'd get you somewhere safe.”

“And where would that be?”

“That would be up to you. I could take you back to Mereen.”

“And what would you do then?”

“Well, if everything goes to waste, it would mean Euron still alive, Cersei winning, and your allies either dead or betraying you. I suppose Westeros won't be the most welcoming place for me then.”

She nodded.

“And if we win, but if everyone betrays me, what will you do?”

“I would stand by your side.”

“You'd stay with me?”

“Yes.”

“What about your islands? Your birthright? Your kingdom?”

“Who says we can't-”

Suddenly, the voice stopped.  
Silence.

“We can't what, Yara?”

When the Greyjos spoke again, it was barely more than a whisper.

“... rule them together.”

Oh.  
OH.  
She had to swallow a lump that suddenly appeared in her throat.  
Even so, her voice was just as low when she managed to speak again.

“...and if they do not want me in Westeros?”

“Get you somewhere safe.”

“And then?”

“I don't know. I'm loyal to my people. I promised them their lands and their queen. But...”

The Greyjoy cleared her throat. 

“Forgive me for not being able to answer that.”

“A queen should not ask for forgiveness.”

“But she can. Because she doesn't know how another queen might react.”

“Let me correct that. A queen should not ask for forgiveness if there is nothing to forgive.”

“There isn't?”

“I loved Daario and I left him.”

“You had a good reason for that.”

“You have a good reason too.”

Yara didn't answer that anymore, instead crossing her arms, and she deliberately didn't look at her.

“So it's out now, I guess.”

“What?”

“Do I have to say it?”

She smiled, turning around to the Ironborn. When Yara still refused to meet her gaze, she extended her arm to put her hand at her cheek, gently turning her head to meet her eyes. 

“You proved to be the only one I can trust at the moment. And I am grateful for that.”

“I get it. You don't feel that way.”

“I do not want to make you feel undervalued or used, either.”

“I don't feel that way. You're the only one I can talk to about some things as well.”

She smiled. And, after looking at her, Yara smiled too.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“You're gorgeous.”

Now it was her turn to avert her eyes.

“Flatterer.”

She heard the Greyjoy chuckle, and then taking a deep breath.

“Daenerys?”

“Yes?”

“Don't ever think I'm just loyal to you because of my feelings for you. If so, I am even more. Don't be afraid to hurt them. You can tell me if you're not interested. I won't leave you for that. My loyalty came before my feelings, and it will stay as long as you are breathing.”

Speechless.  
Taking away her fears before they manifested.  
She was overcome by the sudden urge to kiss her. 

“You are one astonishing queen, Yara Greyjoy.”

“Said the other astonishing queen in the room.”

Daenerys swallowed, hard, before smiling.

“I cherish your loyalty, Yara. It's the only one I feel to be true at the moment.”

Without a word, Yara embraced her. She didn't hesitate to return it.

“The others are fools for making you doubt theirs.”

“They are.”

“Let them see how amazing of a queen you will be. And if it all seems to be too much, you know where to find me.”

“The same counts for you.”

Stepping back from the embrace, Yara smiled at her.

“As much as I enjoy your company, I'm tired. I would like to find somewhere to sleep, if you don't mind.”

“Of course not.”

Sleep here, she thought. Stay with me tonight.  
But she didn't want to torture Yara because she didn't know if she felt the same.

With a small bow, Yara went to the door.

“Yara?”

She stopped, turning her head halfway back.

“Yes, my queen?”

She walked up to her, embracing her from behind one last time.  
And swallowed.

“Thank you. For everything.”

She felt Yara huff, and one of those arms reached behind to embrace her, halfway at least. The other placed itself over her clasped arms

“It was not entirely a pleasure, but I'm glad I could help.”

She smiled against her back.  
She needed her. For tonight, at least.  
Afraid the madness would come back.

“Would...”

“Hm?”

She didn't bring it over herself to ask.  
Not wanting to hurt her.  
Not wanting to appear even weaker.

The Greyjoy lifted one of her hands to kiss it. Her lips felt warm on the back of her hand, soft but chapped.

“Do you want me to stay?”

She swallowed, and nodded.

“If you're alright with that.”

“I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't.”

She smiled against her back, relief washing through her together with more tears.  
Yara turned around, lifting her chin and smiling gently.

“You're normally not one to cry that much.”

She kept silent, unsure how to feel.  
Ashamed?  
Angry?  
Disrespected?

“But it's alright. The past weeks have probably been a lot for you.”

She nodded, still a little ashamed.  
But also glad Yara understood. Glad she could let the mask fall, at least with her.  
Glad she found someone to talk to now that Missandei was dead.  
She swallowed that train of thought and met Yara's eyes.

“You're normally not one to be that caring.”

“I told you you inspire people.”

She smiled despite her tears. Seeing Yara's eyes flicker to her lips and her throat bobbing, she took the hand away from her chin and squeezed it before turning away.

“You are sure about this? You can always leave if you want.”

“I don't want to.”

She smiled, part of her glad Yara couldn't see it.

“How do you usually sleep?”

“Depends on where I am. When I'm on the ship, I usually wear a shirt and undergarments. In a castle, I'm usually naked. What would you prefer?”

“Whatever you are most comfortable with. You do me the favor of staying. I can at least leave you the choice.”

“My bags are still on the ship.”

“I can have a servant get them, if you'd like.”

She lets her gaze wander.

“You probably need a bath first, anyway.”

Yara nods. 

“I'll have them prepare it. And get your bags.”

She rang a bell and instructed the handmaid to do as she said. Following the servant, Yara excused herself to get a bath. She felt a pang of loneliness when the Greyjoy vanished from her room, but pushed it away. After other servants arrived with Yara's bags, she had them take out a shirt and pants to bring to Yara, and prepared for the night, taking off her clothes and dressing in a nightgown instead, getting into bed to read.  
When the door opened again, she smiled at Yara, already dressed in her bedclothes.  
The Ironborn blew off some candles in the room and then strolled over to the bed, lifting the covers on the other side and slipping below them. Daenerys extinguished the flame on the bedside table and put her book away.

“Good night, Yara.”

She felt movements in the bed, before the radiant warmth of another body hovered over her and a pair of warm lips touched her forehead.

“Good night, Daenerys.”

Yara moved back to her own side and turned away from her.  
Daenerys fell asleep with a smile on her face.  
Safe. 

–

As the troops moved out a few days after, she regarded them from a balcony above. Yara would go with them, and she had not said goodbye yet.  
For some reason, she didn't want to.

The past days had proven themselves more bearable, the madness still present but crawling further back in her mind. Yara had kept her promise to be there for her and rarely left her side, only when she requested it and when the Ironborn had to solve matters aboard her ships, making up for Jon avoiding her most of the time.  
When she had nightmares, she either was shaken from them or awoke to careful touches, resulting in long embraces.  
After a particularly bad one, Yara had kissed her forehead before clearing her throat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She had shaken her head. Sharing the fear of losing her rock had proved to be too much. But Yara had understood, and stroked her back until she calmed down.

“I'll always be here for you if you need me.”

She had felt the unspoken truth then. More than ever. Especially when Yara had kissed her forehead again and whispered more of those things in her ear.  
Of how strong she was. That she was safe. And it was alright to show weakness here, where nobody but the two of them were.  
She had spent the rest of the night held in Yara's arms, strong body behind her, and she rarely had felt more protected. 

Needing to say goodbye proved hardest for her.  
When she went down to the docks, the Ironborn was waiting for her with a lopsided smile on her face.

“Next time we see, you'll be crowned rightful queen.”

“You better not miss it.”

“Only death could keep me from that, and I'd even want my corpse there. I'd attend with both my legs missing.”

“Don't you dare die on me now, Yara Greyjoy.”

“Watch your words, one could assume you care about me.”

The humorous glint in her eyes did not go missing, and Daenerys chuckled, stepping closer to Yara. 

“Why, I do care about you.”

The Ironborn smiled, eyes dropping to her lips once again. 

“There's one last thing I need to do before helping to end our war.”

Her insides warmed up. She knew what would come, and the growing emotion in her yearned for it. Instead of showing that, she smirked.

“And what would that be?”

“Permission to act freely?”

She nodded, smile widening.

“That's what I hoped.”

Without another word, Yara crossed the distance between them and kissed her. Hard. Placing her hands on her hips and pulling her closer. Her lips felt as soft and chapped as they did on the back on her hand.  
It was everything she imagined their first kiss to be, and it felt so amazing she gasped and wrapped her arms around Yara's neck.  
The low growl that escaped the Ironborn made her knees weaken.  
She kissed back, pouring all the emotions of the past days into it, her gratefulness, her cherish and the other thing she not dared to speak of yet. Yara gave as good as she got, letting her hands massage Daenerys' back above her clothes, coaxing another gasp from her when she applied just the right amount of pressure on her lower back, causing them to deepen the kiss even more.  
A part of her regretted not doing this sooner.  
When they broke apart, they were breathless. Yara smiled at her, still holding her close, neither of them wanting to end this moment. Daenerys closed her eyes again when the Ironborn pressed a softer kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.”

The words were a whisper against her skin, and she froze for a second before smiling.

“You sure know how to confess that.”

A chuckle.

“Like you didn't know already.”

“I didn't have to make you say it.”

“Would you have?”

“Possibly. Probably not. Those words are your gift to give.”

“Alright, that's a tad too sappy now.”

Her smile widened, and she kissed Yara's jaw.

“Care to say it again?”

The Greyjoy chuckled.

“I love you.”

She let her head rest against her shoulder.

“I cannot tell you I feel the same right now..,. But there is something, Yara Greyjoy. Something I don't dare name just yet. Just know that you made the last days far more bearable for me and gave me a reason to smile again. And I'm more grateful for that than I can name. I cherish you. So don't you dare die on me.”

“You already mentioned that.”

“It can't hurt to do it again.”

“Suppose it doesn't...”

The look Yara gave her made her insides blossom, all negative things ceasing to exist for a moment.

“Be safe, Daenerys.”

“With you in this world, I have no reason not to be.”

Yara looked truly stunned for a moment before kissing her again. Just as she wanted to deepen the kiss more, a beat of wing, followed by an intense growl interrupted them.  
When they broke apart, Drogon sat next to them, staring at Yara, who swallowed, hard. But she seemingly found her courage again, looking back at the dragon and smirking at him.

“Make sure she's safe, will you?”

Drogon kept staring at her, then puffs, growling another time. Yara nodded at him, closing her eyes. The dragon turned away himself, tensing up before flying away again.  
Yara exhaled, clearly relieved, and Daenerys chuckled.

“I think he likes you.”

“For a moment, I feared we were about to test the snack theory.”

She laughs. 

“Hopefully not.”

Turning towards Yara, she gave her another soft kiss before stepping away.

“We will see at my coronation.”

“Count on it.”

As the ships sailed away, she swore she could see Yara looking to the coast as long as possible.

–

She flew over the clouds, knowing Euron's fleet was below her.  
She would win this battle.  
She would bring Cersei to her judgement.  
She would be the queen the seven kingdoms needed.

And King's Landing would not burn today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of King's Landing.  
> Without Dany going mad, but with Yara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...honestly, I planned this as a one-shot.  
> Then I got the idea to write part two.  
> But now that I'm done with that, I still have at least 4 things I still need to write... so brace yourselves...  
> you're all in for a third chapter.  
> (And while we're at that, I would love to thank everyone who wrote a comment. All of your words inspired me to make this fic much more than originally planned. Thank you, so much.)

Waiting.  
Endless waiting.  
Yara knew her queen would come eventually, and then the city would fall.  
Until then, she engaged in various staring duels with soldiers of the Golden Company. Men, women, and people who looked like neither or both. 

A shame they would die, really. Some were quite handsome.

When her current opponent cast his glance away, so did she, looking to the sides to see Grey Worm clenching his jaw. Poor man would probably be glad if he died today. A few steps next to him, Jon Snow met her gaze. She smirked at him, prompting him to look away for a fracture of a second.  
She chuckled.  
For some reason, he had been casting her strange glances over the last days.  
Might be because he saw her kissing Daenerys better than he'd ever be able to.  
But judging by what she heard about him, she had way more experience in how to touch a woman,  
so.. she should pity him more. And be mad at him.

She might be his aunt, but he still could've been there for her. No wonder she wanted to burn the city when she had to face her demons all alone.  
For a split second, she wondered how this day would've gone if she hadn't come to Dragonstone when she did.  
But shit, that had been more than worth it. 

She glanced behind herself to see her band of Ironmen nodding back at her. Their part was to go to the beaches and hold them... if everything went according to plan, Euron's fleet would burn, and if she was lucky, that fucker would survive so she could hold her promise.  
She smirked.  
They all didn't know what was coming for them.

A rumble, low in the distance.  
Her expression widened.  
Grey Worm took a step ahead.  
With the second, the Golden Company, worriedly cast glances behind them, especially as the noise turned louder and louder...  
The gate exploded in a rain of fire and stone.  
The blood joined when the debris hit the enemy soldiers.  
And above all the fire, the great black dragon roared, wings carrying him out in the open space.  
She did the only reasonable thing.  
She raised her axe and roared a challenge for every foe within the gates, her voice joining the thousands of others before they charged.  
The Dothraki came first, disrupting any forces in the streets, followed by the remainder of the army. Corpses littered her way as she ran along them, one of their soldiers having fallen for over 10 of Cersei's.  
Her axe tasted blood when she killed her first Lannister soldier, slitting his throat with so much force blood splattered over her face.  
She remembered her title. They didn't call her Lady Reaper for nothing. Time to remind the enemy why.

Her men and her broke away from the main assault soon after, heading for the docks, killing any soldier in her way. The duels were rather short, given her opponents were terrified of Drogon and his flames. She heard him more often than she spotted him, his shadow blocking the sun for a second, followed by an explosion on the wall.  
It was magnificent, really. Best battle she'd been in for a while.  
The soldiers in her way became less and less, presumably because the ones available were headed to fight their main army and not her small party of Ironborn. It was better that way... fewer losses, fewer exhaustion. She would need her energy for fighting Euron.  
Rounding the next corner, they found themselves in a street full of panicked civilians that stared when they saw her. Most of them cowered below the roofs on the sides of the street, trying to get smaller every time they heard Drogon.  
The ones that stood on the street were frozen, shaking with fear.

“Make way!”

She shouted, but they wouldn't move.  
She remembered the promise she uttered months ago.  
No more.

“We won't harm you if you step aside.”

With those words, they made way for her and her soldiers, and she started walking through the masses.  
She didn't need to tell her men what she would do if she saw anyone harm the innocent. They knew what the bargain had been.  
And who would she be, honestly, if she had offered her own crown to protect the civilians only to slaughter them herself?  
They still cowered when she walked by, but she saw a form of reverence in their faces besides the fear.  
For the first time besides the moments with Daenerys, she truly felt like a queen.  
Head held high, she marched on, crowd parting before her.  
When Drogon's roar sounded from behind her, she smirked, expression widening when the dragon flew directly over her. As she looked upwards, she locked eyes with the true queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and if her eyes didn't trick her, she swore she could see her smile.  
As the dragon flew away to turn their wrath on the Lannister soldiers once more, she was pleased to see the streets were almost empty.  
The rest of her way to the beaches was pretty uneventful.

That fucker's ships burned in the distance, some of his men littered over the sand. Everyone dripping wet to the bone, some obviously having been lucky enough to find boats or any other floating object, others clearly exhausted from swimming all the way. Most of them wore no armor, probably having gotten rid of it to save themselves from drowning.  
They looked at her, knowing she knew they wouldn't stand a chance.  
She came to a stop before them, trademark smirk on her face.  
One of Euron's men, clearly strong enough to stand, drew his sword and began to charge, a few others joining. She stood her ground and plunged her axe in the first one's abdomen. It was not a fight, not really. When their corpses lay strewn around them and the worst that had happened was one of her twenty men falling, she chuckled.

“You've lost! Look around you. Your precious ships are burning, your comrades are dead. You've got no hope of winning against me. Your leader abandoned you. King's Landing is falling and the Iron Isles are mine. Throw your weapons away and surrender, and I will let you keep your lives. Don't, and you'll end like that cute little assault around me.”

One of them stood up, looking at her with defiance in his eyes.

“I'll never bow to a woman! Not to Cersei, not to you, and not to that dragon whore!”

She took a dagger from a fallen enemy and threw it into his crotch.  
He cried out in pain, holding his hands to where his dick used to be, and fell to his knees. She walked up to him, took his chin in her hands, and stomped her foot down where the knife just hit. 

“She has more balls than you ever will have.”

She let him fall aside, taking a step back and looking at the rest of them.

“Any further obligations?”

Euron's men cast their weapons aside and awaited her judgement.  
She ordered hers to take them in a circle together, having them kneel on the ground while she plunged their swords into the sand some steps away, hilt first.  
They had no gloves. Any of them trying to pull one out would cut his hand.  
She left eleven of her men behind to guard them, taking the remaining seven with her to find her uncle.  
A sound made her halt for a moment, before a smile spread on her face.  
The bells rang.  
The city had surrendered.  
In the distance, she heard the roar of the last dragon.  
They had already won. The only remaining tasks would be to take out the remaining figures hindering Daenerys' ascension, and she was on it.

 

–

 

Daenerys was perched on the wall when the sound of the bells came to her ear and Drogon growled in response. She felt his unrest, mirrored in herself.  
Part of her still wanted to see this city burn.  
The bigger part remembered her army fighting for her.  
People crying out and screaming in fear nonetheless.  
But no children kneeling on the streets, trying to get their parent's bodies to move again.  
Her soldiers pushing the innocent out of the way to kill the Lannister soldiers.  
Yara and the Ironborn walking through streets full of civilians and keeping the promise she made long ago.  
The Lady Reaper not reaping.  
Her smile when she had looked up at her.  
Keeping the promise given in Mereen.

_“Maybe 'We now sow thanks to the Dragon Queen'.”_  
_“Let them see how amazing of a queen you will be.”_  
_“Even a lower claim can win over the people.”_  
_“If it all seems to be too much, you know where to find me.”_  
_“I love you.”_  
_“Next time we see, you'll be crowned rightful queen.”_

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  
As if reading her mind, Drogon took off, roaring.

 

–

 

After she had put some distance between her and the Ironmen, she saw a single figure between the rocks of the coast who stopped when he saw her.  
It was not her uncle, far from it. 

“Jaime Lannister. What a surprise. I thought our queen had imprisoned you.”

“Your queen. I will get mine out of here.”

“Cersei is no longer a queen. Her city surrendered. The Red Keep will fall today.”

“Let me get her, and you'll never see us again.”

“No. She's done far too much. Even for Ironborn standards.”

“Then, you leave me no choice.”

The former best swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms pulled out his weapon, and she and her soldiers took out theirs.

“Come on. You know you don't stand a chance against 8 of us. If you still had your right hand, you might, but what do they say? Hands of gold are always cold.”

“I could challenge you.”

“Challenge denied. I still have an uncle to kill.”

Jaime looked at her, stunned.

“I'll leave you a choice. Surrender, and be captured, or fight for the same result. Or you'll die. Think twice if you want to see your sister again.”

“How noble, the Lady Reaper not actually trying to kill me.”

“I promised the Ironmen would change their way of life for Daenerys. Would any of your allies do that for Cersei?”

The knight kept silent.  
She stared him down, contemplating.

“Take him and put him with Euron's men.”

“And you?”

“I'll find that bastard by myself.”

She walked past Jaime, who seemed to have resigned to his fate.

“Don't worry, golden boy. You'll see her again.”

She didn't hear a shuffle or the clash of weapons from behind her, so she assumed Jaime had surrendered, just like the city.

She still had an uncle to kill.

 

–

 

Daenerys was halfway to the Red Keep when she saw Lannister soldiers littering the streets, kneeling in surrender, some of her army guarding them. She smiled, landing on top of a house when she saw Grey Worm.

“How far have you gotten?”

“It will not be much more, my queen..”

She nodded.

“Thank you.”

He smiled at her, and she took off again, circling above her armies, protecting them on their way to the Red Keep. More than once, she let Drogon roar to make the soldiers surrender, and the closer she came, the more civilians were in her way. But they all ran when they saw her.

_“They already fear you. Make them see they should love you as well.”_

She smiled at the words popping up in her mind, giving her an idea of what she could do.  
When her army reached the doors of the red gate, she let her dragon land upon them, roaring.  
The masses of people on both of it's side looked up to her, shaking, some screaming in fear. She cast her gaze at the tower for a second, knowing her enemy watched.

“People of King's Landing!”

The panicked cried ebbed away.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of My Name, Rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, Lady of Dragonstone, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.  
My throne has been taken by a usurper too long ago, and a usurper is still perched on it. I have not come for a single life beside hers. She offered you refuge in here, thinking my mercy weak. You were to be her shield and nothing more. I will not tolerate the crimes she committed against all of you during her regency, and I want to give these kingdoms the bright future they deserve.  
Your town has surrendered and so has the Lannister army. But do not fear for your lives today. I will not take them, and neither will my soldiers.  
I ask of you to make way for my armies to come in. I do not wish to shed innocent blood today.”

For a moment, all they did was look up at her. Then, slowly, the crowd began to part. Some of the soldiers who surrendered opened the gate for her army, and they marched in, keeping away from the civilians at both sides of the way.  
Drogon roared again, and she turned her gaze to the tower.

“Cersei Lannister! If you come out now, I swear none of those trying to protect you will die!” 

With that, she waited.

 

–

 

Yara moved between rocks, spotting a single boat between them. She smiled. He would be here.  
She simply took a seat on a rock, leaning back against it, and waited.

“Sure wouldn't have expected you here, niece. Did you come looking for me?”

She cast her glance to the figure that approached. Euron looked wet to the bone, and drained. 

“I did.”

“I'm honored.”

“I only want to rid myself of your company forever.”

“I really missed you. I got lonely only talking to mutes.”

“No one would do that of their free will.”

“Oh, Yara. You hurt my feelings.”

“You poor, miserable man.”

“You come to take my crown, eh?”

“I already have it. I just need to rip it off of you now.”

“I got something better than you ever will have.”

“Something to cut your own tongue?”

“Not quite. My legacy is bigger than yours ever will be.”

“You killed a dragon, congrats.”

“And I fucked the queen.”

“Then your big plan is done, right? Sadly, those ships can't take you somewhere else now.”

“So this is how it ends? Just you, and me. The last of the Greyjoys, truly.”

A pang of grief shot through her at those words, and she drew her axe.

“Ah, did that hit a nerve? Did you cry for him, while he died all alone in the north, surrounded by those who hated him?”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me, did anyone even pay him respect?”

_“I told him he was the honorable man he always wanted to be. I told him you would be proud of him for giving his life to right a wrong he committed years ago.”_

She smirked.

“Yes. The true queen attended his funeral and called him honorable. Tell me, uncle, would Cersei do that for you?”

Instead of replying, Euron drew his shortsword and charged. She parried his blade with the side of her axe, pushing him back a few steps. He shook his head, stretching his arms out.

“You'll never be their queen, Yara.” 

She charged at him, their weapons meeting again.

“I already am.”

“They'll never follow a woman. Not really.”

“They already do.”

They swapped more hits in silence, teeth clenched, iron wills clashing with the same force as weapons. Yara parried and was parried herself, dodged while her own swings were being dodged just the same. For a while, it seems none of them was gaining the upper hand.  
She fainted a blow that Euron easily parried, but just in that moment, her fist made contact with his jaw, ripping his head back and throwing him off balance. He tumbled a few steps backward, but immediately lunged back at her, his blade describing a deadly bow she just so managed to dodge. The tip still grazed her cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood in it's wake.

“Playing dirty now, huh?”

“No. Lowering my standards.”

“Very well...”

Euron swung the shortsword against her, but she cut him off, her hand flinging the weapon aside before ramming her own into his torso from below.  
The axe left a deep gash in him, effectively incapacitating him, making him fall to his knees. He managed to kick at her legs, breaking her stance.  
She fell down, face first, but managed to catch herself in the last second, landing on her upper arm and shoulder instead of her head. Euron kicked her axe away, grinning at her, blood seeping out of his mouth. When she pushed herself up again, she was met with his fist to her face.

 

–

 

The unrest that slowly spread in the courtyard made her aware of how long Cersei had kept her waiting already. Grey Worm looked up at her, expectantly, waiting for further orders.  
Daenerys sighed, looking down to meet eyes with Tyrion. Her hand smiled painfully, but nodded. 

“Ready your weapons!”

She ordered, voice sounding over the field, and many swords and spears answered.

“That will not be necessary.”

Walking towards her, from the entrance, was the woman whose fault it all was. Despite herself, a small smirk crept upon Daenerys' face. She pressed her feet to Drogon, prompting him to let her down within the yard.

“We've been here for some time.”

Cersei didn't reply, instead coming closer, her hand and the Mountain trailing behind her. She felt anger mixed with grief as she looked upon them.

“I am glad you came out to join us.”

“A true queen knows when the day is won... and when to surrender.”

She smiled, getting off of her dragon, taking a step toward Cersei.

“You will lay down your title and crown and place your life within our judgment. Your will be stripped of all lands and honors, and be my... guest, until we find the time to decide your fate.”

“And what if I choose differently?”

“You have no choice. Your kingdom has fallen. Your city is mine, and your army surrendered. Agree to the terms, and I swear to give you a fair trial. Don't, and burn on the spot together with your advisers.”

“My army has not fallen. There are still people loyal to me.”

“If that is so, they will get their hearing at an appropriate time. For now-”

She cuts herself off when the Mountain draws his sword. 

“What's the meaning of this?”

“Proving what I just said.”

Qyburn stepped next to his queen, lips curled into a thin smile.  
She stood in front of her army. Nothing would be able to save her should that hulk charge.

“Ser Gregor?”

Nothing happened.  
Until a man stepped forth between the innocents in the courtyard, chuckling darkly.

“I never would've expected to save your life, Dragon Queen...”

Sandor Clegane drew his sword.

“But it's worth the look on her face.”

“Ser Gregor, what is the meaning of this?”

Qyburn stepped between him and his brother, staring at the face hidden behind that helmet.

“Ser Gregor, do what your queen commands. Ser G-”

Cersei's advisor was cut off by the hand wrapping around his neck, jerking once.  
A crack echoed on the yard, and Qyburn fell to the ground, dead.  
The civilians breathed in as one, shocked. Some cried out in panic.  
But the Hound remained calm, terribly calm, before he charged.

His shorter sword met the Mountains with force, sending the larger aside while Sandor slammed his shoulder into his brother. Ser Gregor punched his side in response, sending him tumbling backwards, but the Hound had none of it. Their swords met again and again. What the elder brother had in force and heavy armor, the younger balanced with greater speed and agility. Sandor managed to land a few hits, leaving long scratches over the black metal. A particularily hard hit ripped the Mountain's helmet off. 

Appalled, she took a step back and wasn't the only one, although relief surged through her when she saw Unsullied soldiers shielding her from the fight, and some of them having posted themselves around Cersei.  
Sandor chuckled again.

“Look at this. You're even uglier than me now.”

He charged.

“Still undeniably you.”

Their weapons met again and again, but slowly, it was evident Gregor had the advantage of heavy armor and strength. He managed to force Sandor lower, bending over his brother and kicking him into the dirt. Kicking again and again, until the Hound was spitting blood.  
He was on him in a second, pressing his fingers to the eyes of his brother. 

“My queen, I suggest you avoid your eyes. I've seen him do this once, and it is nothing I would recommend.”

“This man just saved my life. I will at least give him the honor of watching his fight.”

Tyrion stepped back, taking his place at her side.

“Will you still give Cersei a trial after this?”

“Would you?”

When Tyrion looked up at her, she smiled at him. 

“Are you leaving that choice to me, my queen?”

“You did not give up on me entirely, in opposition to Varys. You can expect more rewards, but this shall be the first.”

“Then please, my queen, give her a trial. She escaped proper judgment far too often.”

Daenerys nodded. She looked back to the fight, but as she cast a glance aside, she swore she could see Tyrion's relief. 

The Hound was crying out in pain, his hands frantically looking for a weapon. His hands gripped a stone laying beside him, and he took all his force, slamming it into the side of his brother's head, making Gregor tumble off of him. The Hound used that, swinging himself on top of Gregor, gripping the stone tightly with both of his hands and crushing it down onto the Mountain's head, again and again, bones breaking, blood splattering, until nothing was left but a smashed-in face on a lifeless body.  
Taking a last look at the result of his revenge, Sandor fell off to the side.

 

–

 

When Yara opened her eyes again, a cut over her brow made blood run over her eye, leftover stars still dancing in front of them. She rolled over onto her back, hand closing around a hilt.  
Euron's sword.  
She got up again, slowly, and heard a breathless laugh.

“I would've gotten there at some point, too.”

“What a shame.”

Yara stepped towards him, towering over his form. She knew it wouldn't be much longer. Euron was bleeding out from the wound she'd inflicted on him, and she smirked.

“Not that big of a mouth now that you've lost, huh?”

Euron breathed out heavily, looking aside.

“I promised my queen to bring her your heart.”

She let her gaze wander over him, huffing.

“If you have one, that is.”

“What are you waiting for, then?”

“Only enjoying my victory. I told you you picked the losing side.”

“At least I'll leave my reputation in the future... the only man who ever killed a dragon.”

“Oh, really? I can do better. I will be the first queen of the Iron Islands, the first Greyjoy to ride a dragon... and their mother as well.”

“You can't brag about something you haven't done yet.”

“Oh, I can, and if only to show you how unimportant you are. See, the Iron Islands are mine and so is their future. I could change the way history is written and eradicate you...”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“I would, but don't worry. It was you who made me sail to her, after all.”

With that, she cut his throat, enjoying his last gurgling tries at words until his body went limp. She stabbed his chest, cutting out her uncle's heart, just as promised, and made her way back to the city.

 

–

 

The Hound was as dead as his brother by the time the Northerners reached their bodies. Daenerys walked up to Cersei, who stared at the corpses of those most loyal to her. When the woman's eyes met her own, she saw the fear in them.

“I surrender.”

“I did not want to show mercy on you after this, but my hand convinced me to give you the judgment you avoided too long. I suggest you thank your brother next time you meet him. He's proven more capable in the game than you would ever have been.”

She looked to the Unsullied.

“Take her away.”

“I could show them the way to the cells, if you'd like.”

She shook her head. 

“I need you with me right now. You know the people of this city better than I.”

“Of course, your majesty.”

Tyrion bowed, and shortly explained the Unsullied which way they'd need to take. When the usurper was escorted away, she smiled, turning to her soldiers.

“Spread the word Daenerys Targaryen has won today. Escort the Lannister army here. And I want no word of any harmed civilian.”

As her armies left, she rises her voice to the townsfolk still gathered on the yard.

“You can go home, all of you. If your house is damaged, seek shelter with your neighbors. If it is intact, provide space for those who currently don't have it. I will rebuild what was lost today. ”

The people began to move, slowly. As she turned around, she realized their problem. Drogon was still perched on the gate, watching them curiously. She chuckled.

“Sōvēs!”

With a last glance at her, Drogon soared off. The civilians were much more eager to leave after that. She turned towards her commanders and allies.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do now?”

“Congratulate you, my queen.”

Jon Snow looked at her with admiration in his eyes.

“You've won the Last War.”

“I have indeed.”

She could not stop some cold seeping in her voice.

“When will you climb the throne?”

“In a month, at sunrise. I want the losses count until then, a list of available resources, and letters sent to all remaining Lords and Ladies to come here and bend the knee before their new queen.”

“I gather the coronation will be a rather public affair, then?”

“The festivities will be held as soon as the political aftermath is cleared. For now, I want to know the current state of my kingdom. But first, we all shall get some rest. We deserve it.”

Tyrion smiled, but his eyes narrowed considerably when he fixed a point behind her.  
She turned around, and involuntarily, a slight smile spread on her face.  
Before her, covered in blood, stood Yara, smirking at her and holding out a clearly cut-out heart in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this as much as the first part! If you have any wishes or suggestions, feel free to tell me.  
> (And honestly, I'm already contemplating a fourth chapter. This fic escalated quickly.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the Battle of King's Landing. Includes new plans, overdue talks, and Yara and Dany being useless but hella supportive lesbians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you realize, with every next chapter, that the plot you planned is way more than could've been put in the planned number of chapters.  
> So yes. This fic will at least have six chapters now.  
> Also, I had to make some minor changes in Chapter two, but I just changed the time of Dany's coronation from two days to a month. I got some plot I need to make happen before that,

She let her gaze wander over the Ironborn, taking in her appearance. Her upper body was sprayed with blood, her axe and a shortsword she didn't recognize at her side.  
Below the grime, there was a wound on here forehead and one on her cheek, but other than that, she looked pretty unharmed.

“I didn't think you meant that promise seriously.”

“I always mean my promises seriously. Although I didn't rip it out, I used his own sword.”

“Why, that must be punished immediately.”

She couldn't help the grin spreading on her face, a warm feeling surging through her. Yara smirked, winking at her.

“Ive brought you more than that. Captured the Ironmen who managed to swim ashore. And...”

She stepped aside, revealing Jaime Lannister in chains.  
Daenerys brow furrowed.  
She thought he had wanted to stay at Winterfell?

“Found him sneaking around a secret entrance to the Red Keep. He apparently wanted to get Cersei out of there, but well...”

“Get him into a cell. We will discuss his fate later.”

“And what about this?”

Yara raised her hand with the heart in it.

“You can feed that to Drogon later.”

“Dragon snack, huh?”

“Unless you want to eat it yourself?”

Daenerys' smirk made Yara chuckle.

“I'm not the one of us who already did that once.”

“It was a stallion's heart, not a human's.”

“And I imagine it felt more than this one ever did. I wondered that it was so big.”

“You've done great... Queen Yara Greyjoy of the Iron Isles.”

Yara bowed. 

“It was my pleasure, your majesty. Although I'm no queen before I get crowned.”

“When do you plan that?”

“I'd have to return to my isles first, so it'll take a while. I need a priest of the Drowned God.”

“Send for one, then.”

“My uncle Aeron is the one doing that stuff, and I doubt he will come. He'd want another Kingsmoot on Pyke.”

“I will accompany you, then, and back your claim.”

Yara shook her head.

“No. I would likely have to stay there for a few days, at least. And I have to go soon, before hey get the news of Euron's death and hold it without me.”

“They would not dare.”

“They would. Aeron especially would rather bathe in piss than crown a woman ruler of the Ironborn.”

“Time you prove him differently. But have you not taken the Iron Isles already?”

“The traditionalists wouldn't care.”

Daenerys nodded, considering her options for a moment.

“Do they know Euron is dead already?

“Probably not.”

“Have you got time until after my coronation?”

Yara thought about it for a moment, and then nodded.

“I can send my men back home already and deliver the message. They will make sure the Kingsmoot won't be without me.”

Daenerys smiled at her.

“We promised each other our crowns. You helped me to get mine. I will return the favor.”

Yara smirked.

“I could kiss you right now.”

She smiled softly, taking a step towards her.

“Why don't you?”

“Because I'm grimy, full of blood and your clothes probably cost more than 3 of my ships.”

“I'd hurry with the bath, then.”

For a split of a second, she saw something in the Ironborn's eyes that made her knees go weak. Yara kept looking at her. She didn't want this moment to end.  
It did when Tyrion cleared his throat though.

“My queen, as happy as I am to see Lady Greyjoy alive, we have more urgent matters to attend to.”

She averted her gaze, clearing her throat.

“I agree. Now come. I want to look at what's rightfully mine.”

With that, Daenerys turned around and walked up to the Red Keep.  
The Lannister banners were teared down, and her own would replace them soon enough. Everyone went silent as they entered the throne room. She inspected the Iron Throne, not lifting her gaze from it for quite some time.

“All this trouble I went through... for this.”

She looks to the side.

“I expected it to be bigger.”

“They always do.”

Tyrion chuckled, and after a moment, she joins the sentiment. 

“I will sit on it when I'm crowned.”

“Very well.”

Tyrion spotted something behind a column and beckoned them over.  
Five handmaidens come forth, trembling when they looked upon their group. Her hand turned to one of them and smiled.

“Julienna. What a pleasure to see you again.”

“Mylord Tyrion? Is it really you?”

“Indeed. If I might introduce your new queen, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.”

The woman dropped in a deep courtesy. 

“It's humbling to be in your presence, your majesty.”

“You seem fine women, all of you. Would you care to tell the remaining staff they do not have to fear anymore? I am here to rule, not to burn.”

“We will, your majesty.”

“Thank you. And please show Lady Greyjoy to her rooms and draw her a bath.”

“We will.”

Yara stepped towards the handmaidens, while Grey Worm, Jon and Tyrion stayed with the new queen.

“Am I really the only one leaving?”

Tyrion smiled at her.

“Let's say you're the one who needs it most. Would the three of you care for a tour of the keep instead?”

Daenerys nodded.

“I would appreciate it. I expect to see you for dinner, Yara. Please make sure she finds her way there.”

“We will.”

With those words, the Ironborn is ushered away.

 

–

 

When Yara stepped out of the bathtub and into the room the servants assigned to her (which she was told to be not too far from the queen's), she felt like she was reborn. She dressed in fresh clothes that had been brought up to her while she was taking a bath, looking around and chuckling when she saw Euron's heart resting on a cloth on the table.  
Ah, the handmaiden's reaction to it had been delightful.  
She wrapped the cloth around it, put it in a bag at her belt and headed out of her chamber, wandering the halls until she reached the courtyard again. The Lannister army was gathered there, their armor discarded on large piles. From somewhere higher up, she heard Daenerys' voice.

“All of you are honorable men who fought for your city, and all of you had the sense to surrender and avoid unnecessary bloodshed. For this, I give you another chance. You may have supported my enemy and killed some of my men, but I am willing to forgive you if you swear loyalty to me, bend your knee and help me rebuild these kingdoms.”

When it was clear the queen would not say anything more, one after the other began to fall to their knees, bowing their heads before the new queen. The few that did not were taken away by the Unsullied.  
She could imagine Daenerys standing atop a balcony, wearing the same gown she wore to battle, addressing her new subjects with confidence and strength visible in all of her body.  
It made her want to kiss her even harder.

“I welcome those of you who support me. You can go home to your families for today, but I expect you to help with rebuilding this city starting tomorrow.”

As one, the soldiers saluted and then marched away. Yara stood in the shadows, watching them.

“Impressing, isn't it?”

The voice startled her, and turning around, she looks in the face of a woman not older than 18.

“And you would be...?”

“Arya Stark. You're Yara Greyjoy, am I right?”

“You are. What brings you to King's Landing? I though the Starks remained at Winterfell.”

“I swore to kill Cersei.”

She chuckled.

“Ask the queen and you might be allowed to play hangman.”

“You think she'd listen?”

“Listen? Definitely. I doubt she'd let you though. She'll want to burn her alive.”

“I might at least watch.”

“She will get a trial. If you know of her crimes, you could tell about them in court or however this shit works.”

Arya nodded, her gaze falling on the corpses lined up at the edge of the courtyard. They stand there in silence, until Yara took a deep breath and sighed.

“You were the one who killed the Night King, right?”

“You've heard?”

“It's not hard to hear tales of a new hero.”

“They could have saved the breath for other songs.”

“A lot will be written about the last weeks.”

Silence fell over them again.

“Thank you. You avenged my brother and saved the woman I love.”

“If I wouldn't have killed him, someone else might.”

“I would certainly have tried.”

Arya nodded next to her. 

“When I was younger, I looked up to women like you. Who'd never step down for anyone, fought their own battles and won.”

“You've become one of those as well.”

When Yara cast a glance down at her, a small smile spread upon the younger woman's face.

“Who knows? Future girls will wish to be like you.”

“But they'd never know the prices they'd need to pay for that.”

“They never do. But that's not the sense of a hero, is it?”

Arya chuckled. 

“No, I suppose not.”

She huffed.

“What are you planning to do now?”

“I don't know yet. Traveling sounds fun. I would like to see more of the world.”

“If you need a ship, I could always take you with me until you want to hop off again.”

“You'd do that?”

“We're allies. And if I wanna change the way the Ironborn are looked upon, then I need to do something about that. Besides, I owe you.”

“I think I might take you up on that some day.”

Arya fixed her with an intense look, smirking.

“But I think I'd like to spar with you first.”

Yara chuckled, shaking her head.  
She started to really like this girl and she just had begun talking to her.

“It would be my honor.”

They stood together for a while in silence, watching the soldiers retreat. When the last one was out of the gate, Yara stepped into the courtyard, checking the skies.  
Arya followed her.  
Not soon after, a roar came from above them, and Drogon appeared between the clouds, his massive wings carrying him lower and lower. He landed in front of her, fixing the Ironborn with his gaze.  
She swallowed.  
From that close, he was really terrifying. She reached into her bag and pulled out Euron's heart.  
Red eyes took the organ into focus, and a tongue darted out of the dragon's mouth for a second as if tasting the air.

“It's the heart of the jerk that killed your brother.”

His eyes placed upon hers again, and he growled, lowly. 

“I probably smell like him, but I hated him as much as you. Promised your mother I'd bring you this.”

She took the heart and threw it into the air. A gust of fire hit it before it vanished in Drogon's mouth. He looked at her again afterwards, coming closer. She took a step back, but his soft hiss stopped her.  
Drogon came closer, until he was merely an arm's length away.  
Tentatively, she stretched out her hand.  
His scales were warm and hard, and she gently stroked them.

“Thank you for protecting her, Drogon.”

The black dragon grunted while she pet him, before snorting once and then slowly turning his head away. He looked at Arya for a moment and then puffed, before jumping up and flying off again.  
Yara watched him for a long moment.

“Magnificent, is he not?”

She turned around, and there stood Daenerys, smiling softy at her while walking closer.

“I told you he likes you.”

“I wasn't so sure about that. Still am not.”

“I suppose we will see in the future.”

The Stormborn winked at her, and then turned to Arya.

“La- Arya Stark.”

“Queen Daenerys.”

“I'm quite surprised to see you here.”

“Everyone was up to now. Jon, Tyrion, Yara... and now you.”

“What brought you here?”

“My list of people I will kill. Only one name remains on it now.”

Daenerys nods. 

“We all have reason enough to kill her.”

“...We do.”

For a moment, Yara wondered why Arya didn't ask. The silence stretched out, until Daenerys cleared her throat.

“Have you already been shown your room?”

“Not yet. But I would prefer touring the city for a bit.”

“Very well. And you are invited for dinner tonight, just as the rest.”

“I will attend, your grace.”

With that, Arya bowed and left through the gates. Yara glanced at Daenerys, who looked after her.

“She sure is an interesting woman. Strong, talented, and determined. I would not want her as my enemy.”

Yara chuckled.

“Good she is our ally, then. I like her.”

“She knows.”

“I know.”

“I fear she might become a problem in the future.”

“I doubt it.”

“How are you so sure?”

Daenerys turned around and began walking back to the Red Keep, Yara following her, purposefully walking a little slower than she was used to.

“Because you've proven today what kind of a queen you will be. What I already told you. You've shown to be righteous and generous already. They respect you.”

“Will they when they know it?”

“You were the one who gave them their lives although you just as easily could've burned them.”

The queen stops in the hallway, and tuns towards her.

“Why, Yara Greyjoy...”

Daenerys stepped closer to her, cupping her cheek with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist.

“... do you always know the right words to fight my fears?”

“I don't know. Maybe be-”

Her words were shut up with a searing kiss, Daenerys pulling her closer while pushing herself upwards, and Yara groaned into her mouth, feverishly kissing her back. She leaned down to help Daenerys stand on both feet again, and put her hands on the Dragon Queen's hips, thumbs softly pressing into her hipbones.  
The Stormborn hummed at that, her arm wandering from Yara's waist to tangle in her hair. Yara deepened the kiss even more, desiring to press the queen against a wall, stroking her thighs through the dress to make more of those gorgeous noises escape her, but she didn't want to move, too wrapped up in the moment.  
As they broke apart, their noses still touched, smile mirrored in both eyes.  
Daenerys leaned forward and pressed another soft kiss to Yara's lips. The response was a whispered “I love you” that made her inside warm up again. Yara deepened the kiss, delighted by the soft gasp that left Daenerys.  
A rustle of clothes, as if someone had rapidly halted. Yara broke the kiss and turned her head in the direction of the interrupting noise.  
Jon Snow stood there, mouth slightly agape, looking like he wanted to say something but instead swallowed the words, turning around and walking in the direction he came from.  
Daenerys sighed.

“Don't even think about it.”

Yara's voice was low, eyes narrowed to the hall Jon just had left into.

“I will go talk to him.”

“Why you?”

“Let's say I have a few things to say I'd rather tell him in private.”

Daenerys nodded.

“Then do.”

“What will you do in the mean time?”

“Take a bath, obviously.”

The Dragon Queen smiled at her, and suddenly, her mouth was dry, imagining little droplets of water trailing from silver hair...

“I'll see you at dinner, Lady Greyjoy.”

When Daenerys turned around, she swallowed a lump in her throat.  
She would probably need some cold water before attending.  
But first, a talk long overdue. She strode after the Guardian of the North, following him to a room she recognized as a library.  
He stood at the window, looking out of it. When the door closes behind Yara, he turned around.

“I suppose I should be happy for you both.”

“And you aren't?”

“It does not feel right. Would all of your feelings for her vanish if you found out you were related?”

“Yours did not.”

“Of course not. What woman could ever be like her?”

“No one, of course.”

“Then you understand why this is hard for me.”

“More or less. There's one thing I don't understand, though.”

Yara stepped closer to him, anger radiating from her in waves. She leaned into his personal space, staring him down.

“If you feel that way about her, why haven't you been there for her when she needed it?”

He didn't reply.

“Why.”

“WHY?!”

She shouted the last word, making him flinch.

“She saw two of her children die. She saw her best friend die. She lost half of her army and the goal she followed all of her life suddenly was in severe danger. Her adviser betrayed her. The man she loved hurt her. I come from the Iron Islands, and even I know that you're supposed to BE THERE FOR SOMEONE WHEN YOU LOVE THEM! SO WHY WEREN'T YOU?”

“Because I-”

“NO reason you could have would be good enough. I lost the only family I had left and couldn't even attend his funeral, and I still managed to be there for her. When I told her about that, she managed to be there for me. So tell me. Were you ashamed that you fucked your aunt? Couldn't you look in her eyes?”

“I was confused. I did not know what to do with her, with my life. In one moment, everything changed and suddenly, I did not know who I was. What I was supposed to be.”

“And you think she did?”

“I was the one that hurt her, Yara.”

“And you could've been the one to apologize and stand by her side. But you weren't.”

“It was wrong.”

“Let me tell you how much. When I found her, she was halfway to broken. Full of fear, anger and grief at the same time. She probably would've burned King's Landing to the ground. You know what helped her? Holding her in my arms as she cried, even when she clawed so tight that it hurt. Listening to her problems and reminding her who she was and would be. Being. There. For. Her.”

“Listen, I am sorry for that.”

“Don't apologize to me. Apologize to her. Bend the knee again in front of the kingdoms at her coronation and swear your loyalty. Help her rebuild what was lost.”

“I will do what I can.”

“I hope so. I am not a good enemy to have.”

“You've just remarkably proven that.”

“You think that would've been all? You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

She noticed him flinching, and nodded at him.

“See you at dinner.”

She slipped out of the room again, refreshed spring in her step.  
That had really been long overdue.

 

–

 

Dinner was tense at first. Very tense. Until Tyrion cleared his throat.

“As soon as you are on the throne, your majesty, you will need to decide on people to hold your small council. We'll need a master of war, a master of coin, a master of whisperers, a master of ships, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and the Grand Maester.”

“That is all?”

“If your majesty pleases, we could always add more people to it.”

“I will consider. How does the city fare?”

“It looks better than expected after such battle and will be rebuilt soon. My men are working hard on it.”

“Thank you, Torgo Nudho.”

Grey Worm bowed his head. 

“What do you plan for the long run, your grace?”

“Breaking the wheel.”

“And how will you achieve that?”

“I do not know... yet.”

“Isn't it too early to think about the long run? We still have to make the Lords of Westeros bend their knee, give Cersei and Jaime their trial, and help the kingdoms recover from all the wars that waged in the past years.”

“We'll have to think about other things prior too. Trade, inland and overseas, although the latter might prove to be harder while the crown itself owns no ships...”

“The Iron Fleet will take care of that.”

Tyrion stared at Yara, baffled. She only smirks at him before stealing a glance towards her.

“When I promised Queen Daenerys we would stop our current way of life, I meant it. Contributing our part to Westeros and making money through trade sounds quite sensible to me. Besides, no pirate would attack a ship with the Kraken on it.”

“But you'll still be an independent kingdom?”

“That's the plan. For now, at least.”

Yara and her eyes met over the table, and Daenerys smiled at her, prompting the Ironborn to give her one of her rare smiles as well.

“That would be settled, then.”

“Is there any important news from the city?”

“Most people seem grateful, your grace.”

Arya smiled, leaning forward.

“They hope you will further prove to be the queen you've already shown to be. Most cheer for you. Some say your title “Breaker of Chains” extends to you freeing them from Cersei.”

She nodded, joy spreading within her. Glancing to Yara again, the look the Ironborn gave her was dripping with every unspoken “told you so”. Part of her adored it.

“What have you planned, Arya?”

“I'll stay within the city for the next month. Looking at the people. Finding those who seek them harm.”

“If you need any assistance with that, feel free to ask.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“ Jon Snow, Torgo Nudho, Ser Davos and I will observe the rebuilding of King's Landing, the planning of your coronation, the letters to the Lords and the other tasks we need to accomplish.”

“And Lady Greyjoy?”

“I will take a look at Euron's remaining ships tomorrow and see what I can use of them. Then I'll send my men to Pyke while I stay to assist in building ships for King's Landing.”

“You know how to build ships?”

“I'm quite skilled at it myself.”

“Thank you all for your help.”

The remainder of dinner was a much more cheerful affair. Her eyes met Yara's more than once over the food, and a part of her knew neither of them would sleep alone that night.

 

–

 

At midnight, Yara threw a coat over her usual sleepwear, quietly leaving her room and making way to Daenerys' chamber. She knew the general direction, passing the Unsullied guards, who only nodded at her, aware of her closeness to the queen especially thanks to the last days on Dragonstone.  
She still managed to get lost.

“Looking for the queen?”

She jerked, clearly surprised.

“You know, if I ever get wind of an enemy I need to get rid of in silence, I'll call you.”

Arya smiled.

“They would not be the first.”

Yara turned around to her and returned the expression.

“And I imagine not the last, either.”

“I can lead you to the queen's chambers, if you want.”

“That would be kind of you.”

“One condition.”

“I'm all ears.”

“You and me. Tomorrow at midday on the courtyard. Bring your weapon.”

Yara smirked.

“Gladly.”

The young hero led the way, and she followed. After a few turns, they stopped at a long hallway, heavily guarded, but none of them showed any sign of aggression.

“Her chamber is the last door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't be so quick with those words. You might regret them tomorrow.”

“Whatever happens then, I'm sure I won't.”

Arya smiled at her again and left, while she walked up to her queen's door. Just as she approached it, it opened, Jon Snow stepping out of the room and closing it behind him.  
When he looked up at her, a wide smirk took up most of her face.

“I promised.”

She nodded, watching him walk past her and then closed the distance between her and Daenerys' room.  
She knocked, and it opened, again, tension melting out of the Stormborn's face when she recognized her.

“You left me waiting quite a long time.”

“I... got lost.”

“What?”

Yara averted her eyes while Daenerys began to giggle, quickly pulling her into her room. 

“Are you serious?”

“...”

“Yara Greyjoy, Lady Reaper of Pyke, rightful Queen of the Iron Islands... defeated by the Red Keep.”

She continued to giggle, making her insides slowly turn to mush.  
Although she would never admit that.  
She shook her head instead, sighing.

“Oh, shut up.”

“You're not trying to give me an order, are you?”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

A smirk.  
One small gesture that almost lit her aflame.

“Good. I was afraid you wouldn't come at all.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“You wouldn't happen to know anything about Jon coming to my room, apologizing to me and promising to never hurt me like that again?”

“No clue what you're talking about.”

Daenerys smiled, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around her.

“Thank you. For that and everything else as well. Today way such a stress, I never got to say that.”

“I didn't do anything special.”

“Yes. You avenged my son and Missandei, and you captured the Iron Fleet and the Kingslayer.”

“Everyone else could've done that too.”

“You are not everyone else. You also inspired me... just looking at you kept my fear at bay.”

“That's... nothing important.”

“Yes it is, Yara Greyjoy. One of the many things why I cherish you so much.”

“Take care, one might think you have feelings for me.”

A warm hand placed itself on her cheek and gently applied just enough force to let their eyes meet.

“But I have.” 

And with that, Daenerys took her face between her hands and kissed her, softly, a gesture that made her feel almost loved. She broke the kiss, tenderly looking into Daenerys' eyes, who smiled at her.

“If I hadn't, why would I kiss you like that? I feel something for you, Yara. Something beautiful. I feel warm when you smile at me, and safe when I'm in your arms. You crush my fears and let me see your vulnerable side as well. I just don't dare name it yet. This all... has been very stressful for me, and without you, I wouldn't have made it.”

She was speechless. Taken aback by so much as once. Sentences tried to form in her head, but nothing remotely coherent was able to make it past her lips beside the words already known.

“... I love you.”

“There is no greater gift.”

She kissed Daenerys again, pulling their bodies together. She felt the warmth radiating off of her, and let her hands stroke to her back, gently wandering up and down with just the right amount of pressure. When Daenerys winced, though, she stopped immediately, looking down at her, worried.

“It's alright... I'm just tense.”

Yara's expression turned soft.

“I could give you a massage, if you want.”

“Please.”

“Lie down, then. Have you got oil or anything here?”

“There should be something in the cabinet.”

“I'll get that while you undress.”

After an approving hum, she turned around to the furniture, opening various drawers until she found a flask of scented massage oil smelling of lavender.  
It was perfect.  
She turned around to find Daenerys reclined on her stomach, head bent to look at her fondly.  
She looked even more beautiful than usually.  
The candles sent over a gorgeous warm light over soft skin, only clothing left being the queen's undergarments. Her back was bare, shoulder blades standing out just right, hints of muscle visible fro riding her dragon.

“You look like a goddess.”

“Said the woman who makes me feel like one.” 

Yara chuckled, shaking her head and walking over to the bed. 

“When I'm done, you won't even remember your name.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“The latter.”

She smirked and set the bottle on the nightstand before climbing over her, coming to sit on her legs.

“That position alright for you?”

“It is.”

“Good. Where do you feel most tense?”

“My shoulders, from holding onto Drogon.”

“I'll start there, then.”

She dripped a generous amount of the oil on her hands before rubbing it between them. She hesitated for a moment and then gently set her hands down, applying the oil to Daenerys' upper back before slowly beginning to work out the tensions and knots. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but couldn't just bypass the worst parts, apologizing softly every time the queen flinched.

“It will get better, I promise.”

“Where have you – hng – learned that?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“A brothel in Dorne. One of the whores taught me.”

“Why?”

“Because I saw the effect it had on people and thought it useful. Has proved so more than once.”

“I certainly cannot entirely complain...”

When Daenerys' mostly distressed noises faded to pleased hums and sighs, Yara took the massage down her shoulders and arms, kneading and rolling her hands over them until none of the tension remained.  
With that, she worked down from the Stormborn's neck to her lower back, over the sides of her ribcage down to the outest lines of her hipbones. She focused on her work, and while Daenerys' soft noises definitely had some kind of effect on her, she pushed that aside, instead concentrating on making the queen feel as good and relaxed as possible.  
When she could not feel tension remaining, she gently stroked over the entire length of Daenerys' back for a few times, then pressed a kiss to her neck and climbed off, letting herself fall to the bed next to her.  
The Stormborn turned her head around to look at her, a satisfied, happy smile on her face.

“I would kiss you for that, but I am in no mood to move.”

Yara smirked at her, leaning over and giving her a quick kiss.

“That means I was successful.”

“Definitely. Are you feeling well?”

“While being in bed with a goddess who smiles thanks to me? I've no reason not to.”

“Would you mind blowing out the candles?”

Still smirking, Yara did just that and then joined Daenerys in bed again. As soon as she turned to her, she saw a shift, the last candle being blown out, before warm softness pressed to her front, prompting her to wrap her arms around the queen. Only then she completely realized Daenerys was still mostly naked, swallowing before carefully pulling her closer.

“Good night, Yara.”

“Good night, Daenerys.”

She kissed the back of her queen's head and then closed her eyes, smile on both of their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if you have wishes, critique and ideas, I'll be happy to read them and do as much as I can.  
> (Meaning this fic will get even longer,)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day with peace in the realms.

When she woke up, someone was perched on top of her chest, a powerful leg resting between her own, a hand on one of her breasts while gentle breathing tickled her collar.   
One of her own hands was touching the wonderfully soft skin of a woman’s back, her other perched on a shoulder. When her mind faded into consciousness again, she smiled with her eyes still closed, pulling her queen closer towards her.   
Daenerys hand moved up from her breast to her clavicle, fingertips touching her skin while the rest of her hand rested on the shirt Yara wore for sleeping. Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking down on the beauty in her arms. One silvery strand had fallen before the Dragon Queen’s eyes, so she gently tucked it away, smiling when she saw more of Daenerys’ face.   
She didn’t want this moment to end.   
She gently started stroking the Stormborn’s back, didn’t want to wake her but couldn’t resist touching her.   
The hand on her collar moved further upwards, sliding over her neck and into her hair, and Daenerys’ entire body started to shift, rolling further onto her stomach and onto Yara. She didn’t stop the slow movements of her hand, relishing the way Daenerys’ back muscles moved against her fingers. The queen’s hand tightened in her hair, body sliding further upwards, until her head slightly rose from her chest and turned towards her instead, yawn fading to sleepy smile on her face.

“Is it morning already?”

“Unfortunately.”

The Stormburn hummed, letting her face sink down on Yara's chest again, prompting her to start stroking her back again. A happy sigh came from the lips of the woman in her arms. Daenerys began stroking her neck, making her close her eyes as well and turn her head a little to kiss her forehead.

“Can we... stay like this for a little longer?”

“Of course.”

“Right...”

The Stormborn yawned again, snuggling closer to her chest and moving her leg to accommodate. She liked the feel of the supple yet strong thigh sliding against hers.  
Taking her other hand in the mix, she rubbed her back more, being more gentle on the parts where the worst tensions had been the evening prior. She felt Daenerys breathe out and kiss her skin just above her collar.  
They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Daenerys arched her back, stretching her arms and legs, but then falling right back into position, only difference being the eyes now resting on her face.

“You make it rather hard to leave the bed.”

She smirked, kissing Daenerys' forehead.

“My wicked scheme lays bare.”

She trailed her hand down from the queen's shoulders to her hips.

“As do you, mostly.”

“I had a good reason to undress yesterday.”

“I'm always a good reason to undress.”

“Yara Greyjoy!”

She laughed, even when Daenerys hit her shoulder once.

“Won't say I'm sorry for that. Would be a lie.”

Daenerys giggled despite herself, making Yara grin. Lifting herself off of her chest, the Stormborn moved to hover over her, Yara's arms still wrapped around her back, and glared at her, trying to look imperious.   
She failed.  
It just made her want to kiss that look right off of her face.

“You know, Daenerys...”

Yara smirked, slowly perching herself up on her elbows, never breaking eye contact. One of her hands made way for the queen's neck, rubbing circles with just the right amount of pressure. She was delighted when Daenerys exhaled and had to close her eyes momentarily.

“You might command the land and air, but you won't tame the sea that easily.”

“I never tried before. Maybe it's time I should.”

“You know you'll lose that.”

“If you know one thing, Yara Greyjoy, is that I get what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

She lets her hand trail lower on her body, a light touch of fingers playing wit her collar bone, without looking lower. She knows it's only a matter of seconds until Daenerys' resolve will break.

A knock sounded through the room.   
Daenerys sat up to the side immediately, gaze turning towards the door.

“What is it?”

Grey Worm cleared his throat on the other side.

“My queen, I apologize for disturbing. Is Lady Greyjoy with you?”

“She is.”

“Very well. Lady Greyjoy, Arya Stark asked me to remember you of your spar. She will await you in an hour.”

She huffed.

“Tell her I haven't forgotten.”

“I will.”

His steps moved down the hallway again, and Yara let her head sink against the pillows again.

“What's the meaning of this?”

The Ironborn sighed.

“Remember I was lost yesterday evening? She helped me find your room if I agreed to spar with her today.”

“So you did.”

“Yes.”

“Well then, go and get dressed. I'll be watching you later.”

Yara sighed again, slipping off the bed and into the robe she'd worn when she came yesterday. She bent down to the queen and gave her a quick kiss before walking up to the door, but turned around again.

“Daenerys?”

“Yes?”

“Your tits are the most gorgeous I've ever seen.”

Not waiting for any reply and instead chuckling to herself, she left the room.

 

–

 

Daenerys walked into the courtyard, amused when she saw already a few spectators, some of them Northerners, some Ironmen, some Unsullied. She had no problem to gather a place in the first row, waiting for the contestants to arrive.   
Both emerged from different sides of the courtyard, Arya in her usual leather armor, while Yara was wearing her chestplate. Both wore two weapons each, Needle and the Catspaw Dagger, while Yara bore her axe and Euron's shortsword.  
Yara smirked at her opponent, who returned the gesture.  
In that moment, Daenerys truly understood why Yara liked her. She had a rebellious nature, she was intelligent and yet determined, independent and strong. Much like her...   
What was Yara to her?  
More than a fling, so much was sure.   
They certainly had an affair of sorts, but she didn't dare call her lov-  
No. Not yet. Those feelings had only harmed her so far.  
Forcing herself to a neutral expression, she observed and tried to shut her thoughts down.

Yara and Arya were circling each other, Needle and Euron's sword pointing at each other, but not quite touching.   
They were moving differently, but equally careful. Arya moved like a graceful cat, eyes never leaving the Greyjoy's. Yara held that contact, but her steps were a little harder.  
Then, without warning, the Ironborn attacked with a cry on her lips. Arya dodged gracefully, but Yara swung a leg around, kicking at her leg and making her drop to a knee. Within less than a second, Needle was at Yara's torso and her sword at Arya's throat.

Both were stunned for a second and then grinned at each other. Yara extended a hand to Arya, who took it to stand up again and used it to swing Needle.  
Yara blocked the sword with the crossguard of her own and used her shoulder to push Arya away. Before she could use that to her advantage, the Stark was on her feet again.  
It was a duel to neither of their advantages... Or rather, a series of duels that always ended in a draw in one way or another. Both dodged or blocked a lot respectively, and both seemed more out for a quick end, but managed stamina quite well.

“You know, I've had quite a few chances to kill you by now.”

Yara was panting, but still had her smirk.

“So had I.”

Yara let her sword sink and smiled.

“How about a draw, then?”

Arya mirrored her expression, putting her sword away as well.

“Works by me.”

Yara clapped the smaller woman's shoulder.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Braavos.”

“Thought so. Been there once and fought some of their men. None as good as you.”

“You held up remarkably well.”

“I'll need to go back there to learn some more.”

“I wouldn't recommend it. Doesn't seem your style.”

Yara chuckled again, unlacing her chestguard.

“You're right.”

Arya smiled, turning towards Daenerys.

“You'll excuse me?”

“Of course.”

The Stark smiled and went past her to the Red Keep, while Yara stepped closer to her.

“I have rarely seen such an even fight.”

“She's one of the best I've ever fought, if not the best. If I'd never been to Braavos, you would've seen a humiliating defeat.”

Daenerys smiled. 

“Do you want a bath after this?”

“Not yet. I promised my men to look after Euron's ships today. Might need to go swimming more than once, so it would be of no use.”

“Reasonable.”

Yara smirked.

“I still remember the first time you said that word.”

The memory let a smile steal onto her face.

“I do as well. I'll see you at dinner, I presume?”

“I don't know yet. Depends on the ships and my crew. They'll want to celebrate with me before they leave tomorrow.”

“Very well then.”

“You'll see me tonight.”

“I better.”

With a wink, Daenerys turned around, leaving a slightly bewildered Yara behind. 

 

–

 

The rest of the had gone by without a single trace of her. Daenerys had worked on her plans to rebuild King's Landing, gathering resources to feed the people and considered ideas for her small council. Other people had been giving her ideas on how to organize and fashion her coronation, she had to dictate the text for the letters that invited the remaining great Lords and Ladies of Westeros to King's Landing for that time, there had been a few problems with Lannister loyalists trying and sometimes succeeding to kill her soldiers as well as innocent civilians... shortly, her day had been nothing less than stressful and she relished the moment she was able to retreat to her chamber and take a long bath in steaming hot water.  
Her handmaidens washed out her hair, and then let her sit there for a while before handing her a cloth to dry off as well as a robe and escorting her to bed.

“Thank you all. Have a good night.”

They bowed and left her room, and she reclined to a chair by the fire, taking a book and reading it. When Yara still didn't show up after an hour, she began to worry.  
After two, she nervously looked out of the window and occasionally paced in her room.  
At three, her fears won.

What if she was dead? Murdered by a Lannister? Whatever should she do then? Who would hold her then, in moments like these, and help her overcome her fears?  
What if she was conspiring against her?

“No. She isn't.”

She whispered to herself. She knew Yara would never do that.   
But once the doubt was there, it lingered.   
What if the love she whispered was all a lie to make her more comfortable around her?

“She had more than a few chances to kill me. She wouldn't do that.”

Daenerys knew her.  
Knew her.

But did she?  
Maybe she only told her she loved her to get the Throne herself somehow. 

A sob came from her lips, dry and overwhelmed.   
She couldn't stop her thoughts from spiraling, but she knew this was not her.   
Stop it. Stop it.

She tried ordering her thoughts, but they weren't conquered.

“Just like the sea...”

The memory of their earlier conversation flashed before her eyes, of Yara's eyes full of desire, but her touch still speaking of love as well.  
She wouldn't touch her like that if she wouldn't love her.

But then, hadn't she stopped for Arya?   
What if the Stark girl would be sent after her?

Stop it. Stop it please.

Tears began to fall from her eyes. In that moment, she hated herself. 

She trusted Yara. Would trust her with her life.  
Yara loved her.  
And how did she give it back?   
With words of cherish.  
Was she only keeping her around, because she was too scared to be alone?

She sobbed again, loud and pained, and a guard knocked at her door.

“My queen?”

“Leave me alone!”

They all shouldn't see her like this.   
Doubting herself.  
Hating herself.   
Not trusting the woman whom she cared for so deeply.

She slipped down on the bookshelf, wrapping her arms around her knees, hiding her head.

Yesterday evening had been so wonderful. Two of her problems being solved in one day, and Yara calling her a goddess and simultaneously making her feel like one.

What were her feelings for her?  
She couldn't say love.  
She couldn't admit that.   
But Yara deserved that. Deserved a woman who would make her feel as beautiful as she made her feel. Not her. Not someone who doubted her loyalty. Not someone who-

The door flew open, and so did her head.   
Yara stood there, for not even a second, before throwing it closed and crouching before her. She put her head back between her knees, not able to look into her eyes.

“Daenerys?”

She sobbed again, wanting to reach out for her, to merge with her and show her how much she lo- cared about her, but no.  
She didn't deserve that.  
Her eyes flickered to Yara once, hoping to make her understand somehow, anyhow...

Without saying any more, the Ironborn moved to sit next to her, gently stroking her arm.

“Can I hold you?”

Daenerys didn't know. She needed her.   
She was too selfish.   
Yara. Deserved. Better.  
She couldn't move.  
But still sobbed.

“You know I'm bad at this, right? Shit, when Theon came back from Ramsay, he was a shell of himself. I forced him to be Ironborn again. I insulted him. I made fun of him. I couldn't bear the thought to... see him again like he was in the Dreadfort. Slipping away from me, too scared to even look at me. See him be Reek again, for just a moment. So I did anything, everything, to avoid that.”

Yara still stroked her arm, but her hand shook a little, as did her breath when she took the next one.

“I... I can't bear seeing you cry. I'm feeling so helpless because no one ever taught me how to handle that. Seeing you like this, I... I'd do anything to change it, and I'm scared because I don't have a fucking clue.”

The Ironborn let out a shaky breath and turned to the side again, surprise in her eyes when grey met violet. 

Daenerys couldn't stop the movement of her hand towards Yara.

“Hold me...”

She felt a strong pull and was immediately pressed against a chest that smelled freshly washed, but still bearing a hint of seawater. Strong arms wrapped around her, and a kiss was pressed to her hair.

“I love you.”

She nodded, a fresh row of tears flowing out of her eyes at that.  
Why was she so selfish?

“Yara...”

“Yes?”

Se turned her face further into Yara's neck, hold around her tightening.

“Why do you keep coming to me?”

“Why shouldn't I?”

Daenerys shook her head, new tears escaping from her eyes. One of Yara's hands set to the back of her head and gently began stroking her hair, the other arm kept her firmly pressed against her.

“I'll always come back to you. You know when Euron took me prisoner? They tried to break me, but... couldn't. I had someone to fight for. You gave me so much strength. And you still do.”

“You deserve better than me.”

“I cold never do better than you.”

She shook her head again, holding even tighter. Yara sighed, unwrapping her arms and instead slipping them under her body, and then she stood up, holding her against her chest. In two steps, she gently put her down on the bed, surprised when Daenerys' tried to roll together and yet hold her.  
They managed somehow.  
Neither of them said a word, Yara merely held her, rubbed her back, kissed her forehead and smiled softly whenever she dared to look.  
For some reason, her breathing calmed after a while.  
Gently, Yara took her chin in her hands, tilted it upwards and kissed her tears away, prompting her to another dry sob.  
When she slowly dared to stretch out her limbs, Yara moved her body along with Daenerys', keeping her as close as possible. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“I... I was worried about you and my thoughts... got out of control.”

“What did you think?”

She shook her head, ashamed.

“I want to know, Daenerys. Let me take it away.”

“I was... scared you might betray me.”

“And why on earth would I do that?”

“I don't know. Because you want the throne?”

“The only throne I want is the Salt Throne. None more.”

“I know... and I still couldn't help myself.”

“Can I?”

“I don't know. Being around you makes me feel better. But you can't always be here just because of me.”

“That's what the shit with “I deserve better” was about, right?”

She nodded.

“Daenerys. You're not the only one who feels stronger when we're together.”

“Yara...”

The Ironborn placed her hand at her cheek and moved her face so their eyes met.

“When I'm with you, I'm happy. Empowered. Even when I see you like this, I'm glad you trust me enough to show me this side of you. I wouldn't trade you for the world, I'd rather bend the knee than end whatever we have. I-”

“What do we have, Yara?”

The Greyjoy's eyes widened.

“I don't know. And I don't care as long as I get to be with you. Call it fling. Affair. Romance. Whatever you want.”

“What do you want?”

“You.”

“You have me.”

Yara smiled and kissed her gently, just lips and nothing else, and she kissed back just as such. They parted again after a moment, looking into each others eyes, before joining their lips anew.  
Without hurry. Without force. Just two women, holding onto each other.  
When they parted again, Yara gently put her next kiss on her cheekbone, then her jaw, while her hand slowly wandered down to the collar of Daenerys' robe. When they looked into each other's eyes again, she saw an unspoken question within.  
And nodded, pulling the Ironborn up to kiss her and turning to have her on top.   
She needed it that way. Needed to feel all that strength like a shield.   
And Yara complied, settling on top of her, kissing her more deeply, letting a hand trail over her side, up her front, and onto her side again before wandering to the front of her robe, undoing the sash around her waist. 

“You're really okay with this?”

“I need to feel you.”

“But do you want to?”

“I've wanted you since I saw you in battle.”

Yara smiled and kissed her cheek. But at that moment, Daenerys frowned.

“Do you want it?”

“Of course.”

“But...?”

Yara sighed.

“Call me sappy, but you're... the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I want out first time to be something. Tonight is... I've drunk. I want to be able to worship your body like you deserve it. I want to kiss every inch of you, take your breath away and make you scream my name. And I will. But tonight... tonight would not be because we both truly want it, but because we need it.”

She nodded, pulling Yara down against her again, kissing her forehead. 

“You are the most amazing person I ever had in bed.”

“You haven't had me yet.”

“But I plan to soon enough.”

Yara kissed her cheek, settling down next to her again and reaching to tie the sash again.

“Leave it.”

“You might get tangled in it.”

“I won't.”

Daenerys slipped out of bed, walking over to her wardrobe and opening it to take out a light blue, medium length nightgown.  
She let the robe fall down to the ground and pulled the gown over her head, letting it fall down her body before walking back to bed and accepting the covers Yara had lifted. Wordlessly, she took to lie on top of the Greyjoy's chest again, drawing circles on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry that the evening went so...”

She sighed, but Yara kissed her crown.

“I'd rather spend a thousand nights holding you while you cry than one where I couldn't be there for you.”

She smiled, pushing with her hand.

“And you say you aren't sappy.”

“I'm not. In public, at least. With you... occasionally.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, leaning up to kiss Yara's cheek.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Daenerys.”

She felt Yara's arms wrap closer around her and her falling asleep after a while, but herself, she found no rest yet.   
After this conversation, she was absolutely sure what the emotions she felt for Yara were, but she was still too scared to openly admit that.   
She made her feel happy. Cherished. Special. Gorgeous. She could be a commoner and would still feel like a queen with her at her side.   
Yara brought light into her life, even when it all seemed dark.  
Suddenly, a memory sprang back to her mind, and she smiled fondly, fully understanding the meaning of words she had last said half an eternity ago.

“Shekh Ma Shieraki Anni.”

My sun and stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...what am I doing with this fic?  
> I have so many plot points left to write and every day, I make up new ones or read the ones you've sent me.  
> Honestly, if this continues the way it does now, I'll probably have 20 chapters at some point and still won't be done.  
> Urgh. Also, I'm kinda proud of myself I manage to post another chapter every night, but I'll have a little more to do over the next days, so I don't know if I'll be able to keep it up.  
> Plus. An important point. If this fic continues further, then I'm tempted to write smut for it. My question would be, are you okay with this?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More King's Landing. And Tyrion knows things.

In the morning, when Daenerys opened her eyes, she found Yara sleepily looking back into hers. A smile spread on her face, and she leaned up, giving her a soft kiss.

“Good morning, my queen.”

Daenerys stretched, wrapping her arms around Yara again afterwards, snuggling closer.

“Indeed it is.”

Yara smiled upon hearing those words, gently kissing her forehead.  
They spent another few minutes in silence, stroking each others bodies above their clothes.

“Yara?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you again. For yesterday night.”

Yara huffed and rolled onto her side, pulling their bodies closer together.

“Anytime.”

Daenerys smiled and moved up a little until their lips were mere inches apart.

“You spoil me.”

“You like it that way.”

She sighed, moving a hand to Yara's neck.

“Why yes I do. Although I'm quite afraid I can't give anything back.”

Yara chuckles, laugh like warm honey.

“You can. The reactions I get from you are all I need.”

She had to close her eyes for a moment.

“I still quite liked the position we were in beforehand.”

Her voice came out a little husky, and Yara leaned closer to her until she felt warm breath on her lips.

“This one makes it easier to kiss you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Yara didn't need any incentive more to kiss her, and Daenerys' hand in her neck pulled her even closer at that. It started a little harder than she planned, but it wasn't as if she minded. When they pulled back, she smiled.

“I could get used to waking up like this.”

Yara squeezed her hips, but frowned.

“Me too.”

“But...?”

“It will be hard when I'm ruling across the continent.”

She sighed.

“You really can't let me enjoy a moment, can you?”

“Suppose not.”

“For how long will I have you? Until you go to the Iron Islands to rule. Then how often are we going to see each other?”

“... I don't know yet.”

She let her head sink to the Greyjoy's chest, continuing her soft strokes on her shoulder, before looking up at her. The Ironborn met her eyes, still frowning. It made her own expression soften.

“We still have time to figure something out.”

“And if we can't?”

“We need to.”

Yara's brow furrowed even more.

“I'm going to be queen of the Iron Islands, what I worked for all of my life. And yet... having you beside me makes me feel whole.”

“You think you're the only one with such thoughts? I won't give up on you even if you're half a continent away.”

Yara suddenly pulled her in for a hard kiss, making her gasp, but return it nonetheless.

“What was that for?”

“Your comment.”

The Ironborn sighed.

“Sorry for ruining the morning.”

“We were going to have to talk about that eventually.”

“But I don't want to think about such things when I have the most gorgeous woman I ever met in my arms.”

“Flatterer.”

“You know me.”

“I do. What would you rather think about?”

Yara smirked, chuckling to herself.

“While we're at that thought, might I just add your ass looks fabulous in the moonlight?”

Daenerys head tilted back a little as she began laughing, 

“Of course. I ask what you'd rather have on your mind and the first thing you think of is my rear.”

Yara laughed with her, 

“Not only that!”

“Let me guess. My tits as well.”

Instead of replying, Yara hummed in approval, kissing her again.

“Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. For now.”

Daenerys untangled herself from the embrace, getting out of bed and stretching. 

“Where are you going?”

She looked back over her shoulder, smirking.

“I've got a kingdom to rebuild, you know. Besides, I want to spend some time with my son.”

Yara swallowed.

“Alright.”

The Ironborn got out of bed behind her, and Daenerys looked back just in the right moment to see her nightshirt ride up to reveal a v-line on her hipbones.   
For some reason, she had to swallow. 

“Like what you see?”

Yara had turned her eyes onto hers, smirk on her face. She mirrored the expression.

“Indeed.”

When she heard Yara huff and take her coat from the chamber's floor, she turned around to consider her clothes for the day.

“See you later, my queen.”

She gave Yara a smile as she went out, then rang for her handmaidens.

 

–

 

“My queen, if I might have a word?”

“Of course.”

She had been studying the map of Westeros up to now, smiling about the letters that arrived of many Lords confirmation they would attend her coronation and bend the knee. Tyrion had walked up behind her, letter in hand.

“Now that many Lords have confirmed their attendance, we will need to present them with a government that might work.”

“Have you got more ideas for the small council?”

“As you seem set on having Torgo Nudho as the Master of War – a choice I appreciate, by the way – I have a suggestion for the position of the master of coin.”

“And who would that be?”

“Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. He's an old... acquaintance of mine.”

“Why hesitate?”

“After the battle of Winterfell, I spent a night with my brother in a tavern. He ambushed us, pointing a crossbow at my heart and said Cersei had promised him a castle if he killed us both. We... negotiated.”

“What did you promise?”

“Highgarden.”

“And why do you tell me this just now?”

“I was worried it might be too much on the first day. I wanted to wait until things had calmed down a little, at least.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you know I dislike things kept secret from me. Don't do it again, Tyrion. I'm willing to look past your mistakes in the Last War if you serve me well in peace. But don't disappoint me like that again.”

“I won't, your grace.”

“You realize only I can give someone a title and lands?”

“I do. But striking that trade was the only thing to keep me alive. Honor has me pay my debt.”

“As a Lannister always does.”

Tyrion chuckled.

“I am the last of my house, and after all that happened in the past, I need to put a good light on us.”

She considered for a moment.

“I did say you'll get more rewards... Very well. If you vouch for him, I can grant the lands to him. I had no one in mind yet for taking over Highgarden.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Why did you propose him for master of the coin?”

“He does not exactly have a pristine record, but he's... good at planning ahead, and helped me defeat Stannis Baratheon at the Battle of the Blackwater.” 

“How do you know he knows how to handle money?”

“He was a sellsword. Served me well and became something akin to a friend in time. And he always knew how to spend and save the money I gave him. Putting him in charge of the coin might gain us his unwavering loyalty, which would be an advantage to have on our side.” 

“He's not highborn?”

“He grew up in the dirt and worked his way up. He knows the struggles of common people, and yet has good experience dealing with nobility.”

“I will consider him.”

Tyrion bowed to her.

“Is there more you wish to discuss?”

“Too much, your grace. But first... what is it that you have with Yara Greyjoy?”

“If I knew that...”

“Thinking back I said it wouldn't be wise to bring a male lover with you to Westeros, you unexpectedly outwitted me.”

She smirked.

“I did.”

“So she is your lover?”

“In a way. You... recall the day I argued to have mercy for the future generations?”

“How could I ever forget?”

“She arrived that night, held me as I was a prisoner of my mind. I was feeling like I was drowning, and she...”

“She provided you with a ship, figuratively speaking.”

“Yes. Without her, I might have made my plan come alive.”

“Remind me to thank her. She does seem to have a positive impact on your wellbeing.”

“She has...”

“You don't sound too happy about that.”

“I realized she'll be off to rule the Iron Islands soon.”

“And you wonder what you will do when she'll leave.”

She nodded.

“Assuming from what I saw, I imagine her to be here quite often. Although she is also a free spirit and part of her home. She seems to cherish traveling via ship. So why should she not travel here once in a while?”

“And the whiles she won't be here?”

“There are ravens, yes? And if you need someone to come to with your... problems, people have often called me a good listener.”

“You'd be willing to do that?”

“Not only I. I imagine Grey Worm would be happy to help you as well. Jon Snow might be as well afterall. And if you need another woman to talk to, well... we'll find someone.”

“Thank you, Tyrion.”

“It's my pleasure, your grace. Speaking of lovers, do you plan to marry?”

For a moment, she was struck by an image. Yara waiting for her in front of a septon, wearing a black tunic with golden embroidery. A single braid taming her hair. Smirk on her face as she spoke her vows.   
Yara Targaryen.  
The thought made her heart ache.  
Instead of showing it, she pushed it aside, uncertain, a little afraid.  
She chuckled to herself.

“What would be the sense? I cannot bear children.”

“Then how do you mean to have a heir?”

“I don't know yet. And it will be time before I decide that.”

“There will. We have far more important matters to discuss. Say, what do you want to wear for your coronation?”

 

–

 

Their swords clashed once, twice. Arya took a quick step forward but Yara dodged her blade in turn.  
They'd coincidentally met on the docks, made a little small talk and were currently on Yara's ship, that rocked occasionally in the small waves on the bay.  
It was a little unfair, really. Arya held up remarkably well, but after a particularly hard wave Yara had felt coming, she managed to kick the Stark down and overpower her.  
Smirking, Yara held out a hand to help her up.

“You had an advantage.”

“I know, and I used it. It's what I'd do in a real fight too.”

“Can you teach me?”

“How to fight aboard a ship? With the Braavosi style, that could be hard. But I could teach you how to balance your body against the waves and how to use them for your advantage.”

“I'd like to learn.”

“We can't have you travel the world without showing you a knack or two that might come in handy, right?”

“I hope not.”

“Alright, I'll teach you. We'll meet tomorrow, three hours before dinner.”

“Where?”

“There's a small platform behind the Keep, by the cliffside. Meet me there.”

“See you.”

With that, the Stark turned around, leaving Yara to her duties.

She went to her cabin on the Black Wind, which more or less served as her office in planning new ships for both her and the Kingdom's fleet, and reviewed some of the estimated resources the town would need for their trade.   
She'd made a good decision when she said she'd be working close with the crown. The Iron Isles had no future with their old ways when the entire world was changing.   
And with this queen, they would make the world better.   
But what if there was an attack from overseas?   
The town wouldn't only need ships to trade, but also to fight. Suddenly, an idea sprang to her mind. With a smirk on her face, she took out some parchment and began to draw. She knew what she'd give the new queen for her coronation.

 

–

 

In the evening, she took the list of estimated resources needed to build the ships back with her to the Red Keep and into the map room, where she found Tyrion, Grey Worm and Daenerys discussing the small council. 

“Also, we have 3 possible masters of law and one or two ideas for the leader of the Kingsguard. As for master of ships, we...”

“Excuse the interruption, your grace.”

“Lady Greyjoy, what a surprise.”

Tyrion smiled at her.

“I suppose you come with news from the docks?”

“I do. And a list of resources we need if the ships are to be built. I designed some trade ships for you as well as a few war ships.”

“How much will you need?”

“A lot. I've used some of the traditional methods from my people to help with saving resources. I'll estimate we need a total of about 10.000 trees, a lot of workers and an established three to four months to build it all.”

“And how many ships will we have, then?”

“Ten trade ships and five made for war. No galleys, though.”

“Three to four months is awfully short for that amount of trees.”

“Not if you give the work to the people living in this city. I still have some of my Ironborn here to observe the construction.”

“Only five war ships?”

To Daenerys' raised eyebrow, Yara grinned.

“Can't make my Ironborn useless, can I?”

The queen chuckled, beckoning her closer.

“Who would you suggest for master of ships, Yara?”

“Me?”

“You're the one in this room with undoubtedly most knowledge of that.”

“Who are the options?”

“Ser Davos Seaworth, Lord Paxter Redwyne and Prince Quentin Martell.”

“Don't take the Dornish, they've got no clue of seafaring. Good wine, good trade, but bad sailors. Redwyne... has a good fleet and knows the trade, but rumor says he isn't really the best man. Ser Davos... well, he's the one on this list I've got the least against. Stannis Baratheon was the last to hold the spot, and he knew his job. Davos was his advisor... I'd take him.”

Tyrion nodded, smiling.

“Do you agree, your grace?”

Daenerys looked at Tyrion and then Yara, and nodded.

“I agree.”

“Marvelous. That has four of seven places secured.”

“Whom?”

Grey Worm took it on himself to reply.

“I will be master of war. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater master of coin. Ser Davos will be master of ships. And Lord Tyrion will continue to serve as hand.”

Yara nodded, looking at Daenerys, who smiled at her.

“As the Iron Isles will be an independent kingdom, I'd like to ask you to send a permanent missive to the small council. I believe it would help with improving the alliance between our kingdoms.”

“I like the idea.”

“Is this settled, then? I'd love to turn towards our mutual interest now.”

“And what would that be?”

“A table of food with a few goblets of wine.”

“That sounds divine.”

Yara chuckled, and curiously looked down on Tyrion when he approached her.

“Lady Greyjoy, I'd like to talk to you privately for a minute.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“I'll tell you. Your grace, Torgo Nudho, if you would excuse us?”

Daenerys nodded briefly before she left the room, Grey Worm following behind her. As soon as they were alone, Tyrion leaned against a wall, sighing.

“So, what is this about?”

“I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being there for our queen when she had nobody else.”

“Oh, that. I don't need your gratefulness.”

“Still, you have it. I believe in her. I believe she is what this country needs. Thank you for showing her that.”

“She didn't exactly have it easy, did she?”

“No. I'm sure you've heard what happened.”

“I have. I'd be lying if I said I don't understand why she was at her breaking point.”

“Losing so much in that short of a time could make anyone go mad. She didn't, thanks to you.”

“She did it by herself. I just reminded her she could.”

“And for that, you at least deserved appreciation from a dwarf who wouldn't have known what to do otherwise.”

“What gave you the need to thank me?”

“We talked today. She was worried it would be harder for her as soon as you ruled the Iron Isles.”

Yara nodded, sighing and taking a seat.

“If I tell you something now, would you keep it for yourself?”

“As long as it poses no direct threat to Daenerys or the kingdom, of course.”

She chuckled.

“As if I would do something like that.”

“I thought it safe to mention. How can I counsel you?”

“I'm.. torn.”

“Between what?”

“Staying here and ruling the Iron Islands.”

“You love her, do you not?”

She nodded, turning her eyes away.

“You care about her and don't want her hurt, but you also see the duty to your people.”

“Yes.”

“Since when do you have those feelings, if I might ask?”

“Why is this important?”

“Because I want to know if I was correct.”

Yara chuckled, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes.

“Then tell me, Lord Hand, what did you assume?”

“Well, when you and Daenerys met, your behavior did show you were interested in her. I'd say you developed your feelings during our journey to Westeros.”

Yara nodded.

“You kept a long silence on them.”

“Didn't know if she'd reject me.”

“I don't think she would have. You're her type.”

“Maybe. She feels something for me too, she says. Doesn't dare word it, though.”

“I cannot shame her for that. Love hasn't brought her any luck. Her first husband, a Dothraki, was murdered by a witch. She burned his body and emerged with three dragons on her.”

“What I'd have given to see that.”

“A lot, I imagine. Her second lover was the man she had to leave at the Bay of Dragons. Daario Naharis.”

“Her third was Jon Snow.”

“And as I've heard, you've given him quite the talk for what he put her through.”

She smiled.

“I did.”

“You sound rather proud of it.”

“Because I am.”

Tyrion looked like he was contemplating for a moment, before he cleared his throat.

“About your conflict. I think the Iron Isles need a capable leader more than Daenerys needs you. She's stronger than she seems in the moment, and she will not be alone.”

“Will you take care of her?”

“Me. Grey Worm. Maybe even Jon Snow. And you can always write letters.”

“I was planning on that.”

“Good. As soon as you've stabilized your reign on Pyke, we can arrange for you to come over frequently. After all, we still need to negotiate our official treaties.”

Yara chuckled, shaking her head.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this.”

“...”

“You did, right?”

“It is my duty as hand to make sure our queen's wellbeing is secured. As you proved to have a rather positive impact on that, I tried to come up with some plans to have you around once in a while.”

“How... foresighted.”

“You can thank me later.”

“I probably will. You'll make sure she's fine, right?”

“Whenever an Unsullied will find her crying, I will be at her side. Maybe I'll make her write to you. Something like that.”

“Thank you, Tyrion.”

“It's my honor, Lady Greyjoy. But now, let's not dwell on this further, shall we? I believe there's a table set for us.”

She chuckled.

“Thought you'd never ask.”

As they made themselves on their way, she walked a little slower to accommodate his short legs.

“Kind of you to slow down when there's a full table waiting for us.”

“If I was drunk, I might offer to carry you.”

“If I was drunk, I'd still say no.”

“Good I'm not drunk then.”

“Indeed.”

When they arrived at dinner, everyone else was already busy eating, stopping their conversation when they entered. Arya smirked at her as she entered, prompting Jon to raise an eyebrow in question. Daenerys' eyes met hers over the table while the queen was sipping wine from a goblet. 

“We apologize for the delay, there were important matters to discuss.”

“I know. Take a seat, both of you.”

Tyrion slipped on the empty seat next to Daenerys, while Yara sat next to Arya.  
The Targaryen cleared her throat.

“As I was saying, Jon, if your brother sees everything, he might be a good candidate for the master of whisperers.”

Tyrion joined the conversation, not really needing any more information on it as that one sentence basically had said it all. 

“It would be valuable to have him here, at least for a few months. He'd be able to see conspiracies by those who are still loyal to Cersei, and any escape attempt. It might be for the best.”

“I suppose we will need to ask him.”

Yara chuckled.

“If he sees all, why not this conversation as well?”

Arya snorted at that. 

“I suppose he might, but writing him is still an act of politeness.”

She spent the remainder dinner talking about rather trivial things, Arya asking her about her travels a few time and Yara answering with questions of her own. Across the table, Daenerys was discussing some things with Grey Worm and Ser Davos, undoubtedly having to do something with both of their future roles at the small council.  
When her own conversation died out and faded into companionable silence, she noticed Daenerys' eyes on her and a smile on her face, and flashed her a wink, making the Stormborn focus on her conversation again.  
Before she could stand up and walk over, though, a large tankard of ale was placed in front of her, another in front of Arya, and the Gnome slipped on the stool next to her, holding a third in his hands.

“I've heard a little about the both of you now, and I'd like to play a game.”

“If the game involves this ale, count me in.”

“It does. It's rather simple. I make an assumption about you. If it's wrong, I drink and make another. If it's right, you drink and it's your turn to assume about me.”

“Sounds interesting.”

Arya chuckled, looking into the tankard.

“I've played a similar game, once. Although you had to make it seem as if a lie was the truth. Let's see what this one brings.”

“Alright. I'll begin. Lady – Arya, you've learned more than swordfighting from Braavosi people.”

The small woman chuckled, taking a sip from her ale and frowning at the taste. 

“Not used to it?”

“No. But it's my turn now. Yara, you've spent more of your life on deck than on land.”

“Wrong, I gotta count the shit amount of years when I was a child. Drink up.”

“I have to admit, I have a hard time imagining you as a child.”

She chuckled, turning to Arya again.

“Tyrion, you're better at drinking games than at gambling.”

“I will admit that right, from a perspective.”

Tyrion raised his tankard and drank.

“Arya, you're a virgin.”

“Wrong.”

“What?”

“It wasn't as good as people tell.”

“Then you definitely didn't have the right partner.”

“Perhaps. I'm not too eager to try again.”

“Whatever works best for you.”

Tyrion looked to Yara.

“Part of you was happy when your father died.”

She laughed, huskily, and took a huge swig. The ale was strong, rich and just the right amount of bitter. She loved it.  
Their game continued, and she felt herself slowly getting drunker and drunker, and when Arya excused herself after a time, she and Tyrion continued, questions sometimes getting riskier.

“You've never had a Dornish girl.”

“Wrong.”

“You dislike beer from the Iron Isles.”

“Wrong. I do not... principally dislike it, I'm just... selectively fond of the taste.”

“That counts.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“It does.”

“No.”

“Urgh. Fine. You at least once had to imagine your siblings going at it.”

Tyrion looked shocked for a moment, before he took one of the biggest slug he had during the entire game.  
Yara laughed.

“Gotcha!”

“I wish this amount of alcohol could make me forget that. But fine. You've rarely slept with boys.”

“Wrong. I've slept with plenty, I just find myself preferring women.”

“Your first time was with a boy.”

“Wrong again. Was a girl on my first raid. Drink.”

 

–

 

Two Unsullied had to carry Yara up to her chambers. She was still conscious, but clearly couldn't walk straight anymore. Daenerys already felt a slight pity due to the headache she would surely have tomorrow. Nevertheless, she refused the guards bringing her to the Ironborn's own chambers, instead having her carried up to her room, where they helped her undress and then left them alone.  
Yara flopped onto the bed like a sack of potatoes.

“Dany?”

She flinched. The past usages of that name all hadn't ended well.

“Sorry if I embarrassed you out there.”

She snorted. It hadn't been that embarrassing, per se, but having a very drunk Yara laughing after something an equally drunk Tyrion had said, raising her glass and almost drinking it in one swig before slamming it down on the table. She had been a little curious to find out what exactly had provoked that reaction, but hearing Yara say “Just one? I've fucked at least ten whores and thought of her!” while winking at her definitely hadn't been a proud moment afterwards.

“It's alright, Yara.”

“No. You're and amazing and I wouldn't know who I'd be without you, but my life has improved so much since I met you and you make me the happiest woman alive and shit I should really stop talking but I can't because you're so gorgeous and wonderful and-”

She silenced her with a quick kiss.

“Shh. You don't make me feel uncomfortable.”

“You just wanted me to stop blabbering, right?”

Daenerys shook her head, smiling down affectionately. 

“It is endearing in some way.”

“If I remember this tomorrow, please hit my head so hard I forget.”

She laughed, kissing her again.

“Did I ever tell you your laugh is the most beautiful I've ever heard?”

“No, you haven't.”

“It is. Your smile is gorgeous as well. Shit, you're perfect.”

“Who knew you could be that romantic?”

“You'll be the only one to ever know.”

Yara turned to her side and wrapped an arm around Daenerys, trying to pull her closer.

“Wait. I've still got to redress.”

“You could just take off your clothes.”

“You'd regret that tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

Yara let her go, but couldn't resist slapping her butt when she stood up, making her gasp.

“Yara!”

“That was worth it.”

Daenerys rubbed her temple, walking to her closet and pulling her dress off before slipping onto the bed in her nightgown.  
Yara's breathing had slowed, she seemed halfway asleep, but still took her into her arms.  
Daenerys smiled.  
If she told Yara now, the Ironborn probably wouldn't remember. Before confidence could fully leave her, she turned towards her, kissed her cheek and whispered.

“Yer Shekh Ma Shieraki Anni.”

“...what...?”

“It means you are my sun and stars.”

She whispered softly, not fully sure if Yara had even heard that. But when the Greyjoy's arms tightened around her and she sleepily kissed the crown of her head, Daenerys knew she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hella gay for them. Also, drunk Yara is fun to write.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

While Daenerys had been sure she'd pity Yara in the morning, looking at her face contorted in anguish with her eyes pressed shut was something else entirely.

“Good morning, Yara.”

“No.”

She chuckled when Yara turned away from the windows, pulling the covers with her and over her head.

“Want me to get you some water?”

A nod came from below the blankets, followed by a groan. Daenerys let a hand stroke over Yara's back before standing up, walking to a small table in the room that contained a pitcher of wine and one of water along with a few goblets. She took one, filling a generous amount of water in it, and brought it over to Yara. A hand slowly came out from under the covers and took it. She slowly pulled them away from the Ironborn's head, making her squint even harder. Yara downed the goblet in one pull, and slowly moved to sit up.

“Remind me to never play drinking games with Tyrion again.”

“I'm surprised you even remember.”

“The beginning, I do. After Arya left, it all gets a little blurry.”

“Torgho Nudho would surely be happy to have the memory loss you had.”

Daenerys took the goblet from Yara, refilling it with water.

“You're a gift. How bad was it?”

“Well, you made Tyrion admit he was in love with a whore once, said your cock was bigger than his, and loudly proclaimed you slept with more than one prostitute while thinking of me.”

Yara abruptly let the goblet sink from her lips, spilling a little water on her legs.

“I did what?”

She smirked, leaning closer to her on the bed.

“Do I really need to repeat it?”

The Ironborn huffed.

“Suppose you don't.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

“I think you understood the question.”

Yara chuckled.

“I did.”

“How many?”

“Ten? Twelve? I don't really remember. Some even dressed up as you.”

“There are prostitutes dressing up as me?”

“Which man wouldn't fantasize about fucking a queen?”

“They did just as much as you.”

“Indeed.”

“Why did you never come to me?”

“Didn't even know you were into women at all.”

“And here I thought I was making it quite obvious.”

“You still had your lover back then.”

“Not during the voyage.”

“I still wasn't sure if you'd be up for it. With me, at that.”

Daenerys smirked, gently taking the goblet away from Yara's fingers and setting it on the nightstand, moving closer to her on the bed before deciding to throw caution out of the window. With a fluid movement, she perched herself on Yara's lap, thighs on either side of the Greyjoy's, placing a hand at her cheek and slowly moving a finger over Yara's lower lip.

“Why shouldn't I have been?”

“So you would've enjoyed it if I had just come to your cabin, pressed you to the nearest wall and kissed you until you begged for me?”

Yara's breath was warm on her lips, and her hands came up to rest on her hips, thumbs lightly pressing into her hipbones. This and the words combined left a shiver running through her body, forcing her to close her eyes for a moment.

“A queen does not beg.”

“Wouldn't be so sure about that.”

“I'm the one on top, am I not?”

“But for how long?”

Suddenly, the Greyjoy flipped them both around, trapping Daenerys beneath her body before her face twisted in pain and she groaned, sitting back up.

“Shit.”

She was too breathless to react immediately, but concern won over quickly.

“Are you alright?”

“Fucking hangover...”

Yara stood up from where she was sitting, taking her goblet and filling it with water again. She got up behind her, walking towards the table and taking some water for herself.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not being able to go on right now.”

“It's alright, Yara. You said yourself you want our first time to be special.”

“When you say it, I sound like a virgin.”

“Which I know you are not.”

“Speaking of it, did you ever have a woman?”

“More or less. One of my Dothraki handmaidens taught me how to please a man, and she once brought me to finish. Other than that, just men.”

“That almost sounds boring.”

Daenerys chuckled. 

“It wasn't that much.”

Yara snorted, finishing her goblet and placing it beside her.

“How about we both go to tend to our duties right now, and... I'll make up on this later?”

“We'll see.”

She winked at Yara when the Ironborn left her room. 

 

–

 

Yara was still a little frustrated when she exited her own chambers, dressed in fresh clothes. 

Something had come to her mind again, undoubtedly blurry, so it probably was from last night. Daenerys had whispered some words she didn't understand, something in Dothraki. But she couldn't recall their sound or meaning, just that they'd been spoken with so much emotion that her heart made a skip every time she recalled what was left in her memory.

Chuckling to herself, she walked down from the Red Keep to the harbor, observing the building of ships, walking through town to talk to civilians to get them to help with it all, and when she returned to the Docks, she worked with her hands as hard as she could, cutting wood that arrived, bending planks, carrying crates.  
Part of her had missed the simplicity of this life. 

Tyrion was probably right. The Iron Isles needed her as their leader.  
She would build more ships for them as well.  
Maybe ask Daenerys for some land on the coast for them to start planting their own crops.  
Mining her lands for the iron that should be there somewhere.  
And maybe then, her people would have a sustainable future.

She sighed, knowing how much work it would be to make them see a new possibility for their lives. But after all, she had to. Another rebellion would never be an option. Quite as likely that the Lords would just decide to wipe them out, permanently. Even Daenerys wouldn't tolerate it.  
She didn't want to see her Isles burn.  
She wanted to make them better.  
Although for some of the traditionalists, burning might really be a better option.

She chuckled to herself, going on with her work. But she didn't exert herself. She knew she would need the energy later to teach the Stark girl.  
On Pyke, they had specialized equipment to train young Ironborn in battle, but here, she would need to improvise. Although she did have an idea what to use for that.  
About three hours past midday, she heard steps behind herself.

“Lady Greyjoy?”

“I just thought of you.”

Arya had a smug smile on her face as she turned to look at her.

“Seems we always meet here, though I intended this time. I have a question for you.”

“Ask away.”

“I know we agreed to begin three hours before dinner, but could we begin sooner?”

Yara shrugged.

“Why not? Not like they will need me for the rest of the day. Do you want to begin now?”

“If that would be alright. Leaves a longer training, doesn't it?”

“Indeed. We'll need to get to my ship first, though. I have to get some things.” 

“You mentioned we wouldn't be training there.”

“In the harbor? I said I'd prepare you for waves, not for a little dandling.”

Yara smirked at her, and after a second Arya smiled. She led her to the Black Wind and into the storage room, taking out an empty barrel and cutting it in half, and then a plank, handing it to Arya. 

“You can carry this, right?”

The Stark girl just chuckled.  
When they got off of the ship again, a roar from overhead let her look up, and she saw Drogon flying over their heads, out to the sea. The civilians were hiding in fear, and even Arya looked a little discomforted, but Yara just strolled on, smirk on her face.

“You coming?”

“Yes.”

When they walked through the city, the dragon's shadow was cast over them occasionally, but Yara never stopped.

“How do you remain so calm around him?”

“Daenerys had three at first and I saw them lay waste to pirate ships that tried to attack us in the night. Makes you realize that if one of them wants to kill you, you die.”

“And that's supposed to make me feel calmer?”

She laughed.

“No. It's supposed to make you accept it.”

 

–

 

“We have received replies from all great houses we sent letters to, all but two agreeing to come to your coronation.”

“What’s with those two, Lord Tyrion?”

“Well, Lord Arryn said with the Great War just ended and a lot of their men lost, they have a lot of disorder in their lands and ask you to understand they will need their Lord in the next months. He is very young and still inexperienced, thus being away for weeks would not be very good for teaching him more of how his lands are best ruled. However, they offer to travel here and bend the knee as soon as things are running more smoothly.”

“Very well. Please write them that I wish them the best of success in restoring the order, and that they will be welcome when they choose to come. And the other?”

“Lord Tully claims he does not want to follow a queen and demands independence.”

“Demands?”

“Yes. He does not want another woman on the throne, much less a Targaryen. But if you allow me, I don’t think he will actually go through with that. If you circle his castle with Drogon, I think he will budge.”

“And if not?”

“Try to negotiate. With what I’ve gathered, he neither has any of the wits or guts nor the army needed to go through with his demands. And I think many of his advisers know that as well. He is a young Lord, and it seems like a try to get more for him.”

“We’ll see. Send a letter to him and explain that if he plans to get his demands by force… Remind him I have the Dothraki and the Unsullied, as well as a dragon.”

“He’ll come around surely.”

“Any more news?”

“Lady Sansa will come before your coronation. She wishes to discuss the fate of the North, and she will bring her brother.”

She nodded. 

“When will they arrive?”

“In about three weeks, your grace.”

“Very well. How is the rebuild going?”

“It started marvelously. The commoners and Lannister soldiers you spared are seemingly glad the war is over. They all help with what they can.”

“And the ships?”

“More wood is coming in every day and many trees that already arrived are being used to build. With what I’ve heard from the Ironborn, everything is going according to plan.”

“Great. Anything more you suggest?”

“Unrelated to everything else, when do you plan to hold Cersei’s trial?”

“The day after my coronation.”

“I would suggest to write another letter to the Lords, informing them of the trial and asking them to send you all crimes she committed against their houses, with evidence and witnesses, if possible. Inform the city as well. Maybe there are no records of her crimes left, but the people remember.”

“I will do that. Tell the Unsullied to spread the news.”

“Whom shall they talk to?”

“Who would you suggest?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Daenerys contemplated for a moment, before an idea sprung to her head?

“How about Arya Stark?”

Tyrion chuckled.

“Can you picture her sitting around in an office, talking to the Commoners and writing things down?”

“No, but Yara told me she was set on killing Cersei when she came here. I’d say we let her have a hand in bringing her down.”

“Very well. I will send for her.”

She smiled, making him return it.

“If there’s nothing else left to discuss, I’d like to spend some time with my dragon now.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t be able to handle alone. Enjoy your ride.”

“Thank you. And Tyrion?”

“Yes, your grace?”

“You’re doing very well.”

His expression warmed. 

“You are most kind.”

“No. I am honest.”

With that, she turned around, leaving a smiling Tyrion behind her.

 

–

 

“Stay on your feet!”

Yara kicked again, making her construction sway even more. Arya barely kept her balance, barely so, but the next kick sent her falling.  
Arya’s back hit the stone, but she was on her feet again within a second.

“You’re already improving.”

“Somehow, I’m starting to doubt your teaching methods.”

Yara chuckled.

“Believe me, if we were on the Iron Isles, this would even be harder.”

Arya nodded, climbing up her construction again. They had taken the cut barrel and put the plank over it, allowing Arya to stand on the thing. At first, she had only instructed her to stand on it, something the young woman had mastered without wobbling within the first five minutes. Then, Yara had begun kicking at the thing, making it sway even more. The kicks had started lightly and gotten even harder, forcing Arya to go to more and more lengths to keep her balance. As soon as the Stark stood again, bracing herself, Yara smiled.

“Are there even waves that hard?”

“Within a storm? Bet on it.”

Arya chuckled.

“How do you plan to continue your lessons?”

“You’ll learn to balance on there first. Then we duel, I’m on the ground while you stand on this thing. If you’re good at that, I’ll let you sail with me and we’ll train more.”

“Will you ever join me on here?”

“Probably not. Then nobody could kick this thing.”

To emphasize her words, she pushed it with her foot, the Stark not showing any sign of staggering. It made her feel proud somewhere.  
She pushed harder again, coming from more and more directions.

“Have you ever been in a storm that hard?”

“I have. Had one where the main mast broke and the ship got thrown around by waves as they pleased.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could. Ordered my men to go below deck, went to my cabin and began to get comfortable with death.”

“There’s only one thing we say to the God of Death.”

She kicked again, making Arya wobble a bit.

“And what would that be?”

“Not today.”

Yara huffed. Another kick.

“Say that to my brother.”

Arya looked at her, expression unreadable.

“I know what your religion says about death.”

“What is dead may never die.”

“Your brother still killed them.”

“I told him to.”

 

–

 

She flew over the coast, King’s Landing still in sight. Drogon had flown some circles over the city, but high enough not to stir too much trouble.  
He set her down on a cliff, turning around to look into her eyes with one of his. She sighed, stroking his scales.

“If you want to fly away for a while, you can. Just remember to come back.”

He made a sound that was close to purring. She scratched a part of his chin, and Drogon closed his eyes in bliss.

“Did I ever tell you after whom you were named?”

His eye flickered open again to look at her.

“I had a husband, once. His name was Drogo, and he had the largest Khalasar in the Great Grass Sea. My brother sold me to him so he could get an army of Dothraki. For my wedding, I got your egg and your brothers’.”

Drogon made a pained sound. She closed her eyes, resting her head against his.

“I miss them as well.”

After a moment of silence, she talked again.

“We loved each other. I got pregnant from him... but he died, and so did my son. I burned his body and climbed into the pyre with your eggs. When I emerged, I had you all. He'd given me the promise to get the Seven Kingdoms for me, and in the end, he was able to keep them.”

The dragon nudged her, and with a smile, she stroked his scales again.

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we burned down King's Landing.”

Drogon growled.

“You probably had the urge as much as I did... but it wouldn't have been right. Did you know I was devastated when you killed that farmer's girl?”

A snort.

“I accepted it was your nature. Sometimes, the innocent burn because of he powerful. But not if I can change it. I cannot have any children again. After me, house Targaryen will die... I want our name to be remembered in pride, not with shame or hatred.”

She followed Drogon's gaze, looking out to the sea.

“This war cost me too too much to not break the wheel.”

 

–

 

After three hours, she stopped the training, both of them panting. They'd spent the last half hour dueling, and as Arya still expected the ground to move, it was equally helpful.

“They… sure tought you a lot… in Braavos.”

“It does… help.”

Arya stepped down from the construction, sheathing Needle.

“I need a bath.”

“Me too.”

Without many further words, they walked up to the Red Keep together, surprised when Tyrion came to meet them.

“Lady Greyjoy, Arya. I was hoping to see you.”

“Why?”

“Arya, the queen has a task for you?”

“Which one?”

“As you are out in town most of the day, Daenerys would ask you to find out if the commoners remember some of Cersei’s crimes against them and are willing to testify them, starting tomorrow.”

Arya smirked.

“I would be glad to.”

Tyrion smiled appreciatively, turning to Yara.

“She has requested you come to her as soon as you’re there. I believe she wants to talk about your plans regarding your reign.”

“Where is she?”

“I believe she should be within her chambers at the moment.”

With a nod, Yara made her way there. 

 

– 

 

When Daenerys came back to the Red Keep, she had been thinking about some plans for quite a while. Having Drogon there made her feel she could voice her thoughts without fearing critique – after all, he was a dragon – so she felt refreshed, if a little cold. She was thinking of a nice hot bath to fix that.  
And have someone send Yara to her as soon as she got back from her day. She'd need to discuss some things with the Ironborn.  
Miraculously, she found Tyrion on her way to her rooms.

“If you happen to see Yara, would you send her to me?”

“Of course, your grace. You two have lots of important matters to discuss, I'd imagine?”

“I've been wanting to ask her some things regarding her plans for the Iron Isles. As we both are busy during the day, we...”

“Don't really spend your evenings discussing politics.”

She swallowed, remembering the way Yara's hands had felt on her hips, how she had flipped her, what she might have done if it wasn't for-  
Maybe a cold bath would be better to suit her.

She rang for her handmaidens as soon as she entered her chambers. A few moments afterwards, they came in.

“How can we help you, your grace?”

“Prepare a hot bath for me.”

“As you wish.”

Two of them leave to her own adjoining bathroom, while one of them helped her undress. It did not take too long for the water to get hot, and as she slid in, she sighed.

“Is it not too hot for you, your grace?”

“A dragon can not die from heat, Crysha.”

The handmaiden smiled. 

“Do you wish for us to wash you, your grace?”

As she was upon replying, a knock sounded on her door.

“Who would that be?”

One of her handmaidens, Marleya, wondered.

“Go find it out.”

The woman got up and exited her bathroom, and soon after, she heard her chamber door open. Few seconds afterwards, the handmaiden entered again.

“It's Yara Greyjoy, your grace. She said you summoned her?”

“I did.”

“I can tell her to come back later when you're in a more decent state, your grace.”

“No, it's fine. Tell her to come in.”

When the handmaiden turned away again, she smirked and sat more upright in the water, baring her collar and the top of her breasts to the cooler air. Gossip would surely come from this... but the look on Yara's face would be worth it.

 

–

 

Yara forgot how to breathe.  
She couldn't help but stare.  
Daenerys was sitting in her bathtub, smirk on her face, enticing neck and top of her breasts bared for her to see. Droplets of water clung to the skin just atop the water, slowly rolling down, making her want to trail them with her tongue.

“Lady Greyjoy.”

“...your grace.”

She replied on autopilot, still unable to think clearly. When she caught the glint in the queen's eyes, she knew that Daenerys was aware of the effect she had on her... and probably very much enjoyed it.

“Leave us.”

“Your grace?”

“Yara is my trusted adviser. She won't harm me.”

“As you wish.”

The handmaidens left them alone.

“Cute of them to think I would harm you.”

Daenerys smirked.

“Like what you see?”

The Greyjoy just hummed in appreciation.

“Why did you summon me?”

“I wanted to talk about politics, but as you look in dire need of a hot bath yourself... why don't you come join me?”

“You sure?”

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“Then take off your clothes.”

Yara snorted, unlacing her boots to put aside, and removing her socks. Next came her shirt, which she took off with practiced fingers. After that, she stopped, looking at Daenerys.

“Go on.”

She walked around the tub, the Targaryen's gaze never leaving her, and perched behind her, trailing a hand down the Stormborn's arm, leaning down to whisper in her ear. 

“Why should I take orders from you?”

She smirked when a visible shudder ran through Daenerys, and led her hand back up. The queen leaned her head to the side when she reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Yara stroked the soft skin of Daenerys' neck with a single finger, sometimes two, relishing the way her breath hitched in her throat. She let her hands wander lower, down to the queen's chest, and the queen arched her back as if trying to get her there sooner. Yara stopped her hands before they reached the water.

“Impatient, are we?”

“Yara...”

She smirked.

“My, if I had known I could make you that desperate so quickly...”

She let her hands wander below the water, until she reached Daenerys' breasts, cupping them with her palms and closing those afterwards.  
They felt even better than they looked.  
The Strormborn exhaled audibly, and in turn moved her arms up around Yara's neck, leaning her head back. 

“Come in, Yara.”

“Is that an order?”

“Why don't you come and find out?”

She chuckled to that comment, squeezing Daenerys' breasts one last time and getting a gasp in reward, before standing up again, removing her remaining clothes before slipping into the water. Daenerys' eyes took in as much as they could of her, the scars on her shoulders, her breasts, the upper part of her abdomen. This time, it was her who smirked.

“Like what you see?”

“Very.”

Yara walked in the water until she stood before the queen and then, sat next to her.

“Are you not going to...”

“Oh, I am.”

She leaned over to grab Daenerys' hips, tugging at them before the other woman got the hint and moved to sit on her lap.  
She smirked more, enjoying the flushed expression on the queen's face, but it turned into a smile when Daenerys moved in to kiss her. She returned the gesture, her hands moving upwards again until they cupped the Stormborn's breasts anew, making her gasp into the kiss and prompting Yara to deepen it. Yara broke the kiss, looking into Daenerys' eyes, waiting for the little nod that made her continue. She kissed down the queen's neck, lightly scraping with her teeth (but not hear enough to leave marks), and moved her hands more precisely to toy with Daenerys' nipples.  
The gasp that came from her lips made her bite her own. She took one of her hands away when her mouth arrived at Daenerys breasts, kissing and nipping at the skin, enjoying the way the queen's hands tangled into her hair and dug into her scalp.  
She chuckled.

“I told you your tits are the most gorgeous I've ever seen.”

As she heard Daenerys take in a breath to reply, she closed her lips around the nipple and pinched the other with her hand, making the words turn into a whimper.  
Shit.  
That noise was the best she'd ever heard, and she wanted to hear it again. She started sucking lightly, making Daenerys arch her back and press further into her. When she used her teeth, the dragon queen bucked her hips into hers, moaning.  
She couldn't take it any more.  
Yara hoisted Daenerys up in her arms, ignoring the surprised noises, stepping out of the tub and carrying her into the bedroom.

“Now who's impatient?”

Yara chuckled in response, lowering Daenerys onto the bed and standing back a little herself.  
The queen was still wet, droplets of water glistening on her skin. She couldn't decide where to look first, everything about her was perfect. Muscular legs from years of riding both horses and dragons. Stomach looking soft to the touch, but she knew she'd find muscles there as well. Gorgeous tits. Lips parted from their kiss, cheeks reddened, eyes turned darker.

“I was right. You really look like a goddess.”

Daenerys looked up to her, shifting her weight onto her elbows and smirking.

“You're quite handsome yourself.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes. In fact, I don't know if I should let you go through with your plan or ravish you myself.”

“Have you ever?”

“What?”

“Ravished a woman?”

“No. But I'll figure it out.”

“How about I'll show you first?”

Daenerys nodded, and she needed no further invitation. Climbing on top of the bed and the queen, Yara kissed her again, enjoying how the Stormborn's hands wrapped around her again and pulled their bodies closer together.  
But before she could go an further, there was a knock on the door.

“Is Yara with you?”

Tyrion's voice sounded almost panicked, and Daenerys grumbled, letting her head fall against the pillows.

“I am. What's the matter?”

“Are you decent?”

“...not quite.”

Yara untangled herself from Daenerys (although not without giving her a last, searing kiss) and threw the blanket over both of them.  
She looked to the queen, who turned to the door.

“Come in.”

Tyrion entered, a parchment in his hands, and averted his eyes upon seeing them.

“I apologize for the intrusion, but this is a rather concerning matter.”

Yara huffed.

“It should better be. A matter of life and death, I would excuse.”

“Almost as bad. It's from the Iron Isles. They'll hold the Kingsmoot tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but not sorry. I'll make up for this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kingsmoot and aftermath.

Aeron Damphair looked over the cliffs of the Kingsmoot, quietly appreciating the way the Lords held a Kingsmoot in favor of the Old Way, not a symbolic one that had been custom ever since the Grejoys were appointed leader.  
Now, a member of almost every house stood to choose, a Blacktyde, Botley, Goodbrother, Harlaw, Merlyn and Sparr. All former vassals of the Greyjoys... but their reign was over now. Although most Lords said more or less the same, about building new ships and raiding, some in more favor of the Old Way than the others... but overall pleasant. Whoever was appointed would be a true Ironborn leader.

“... and this is why you should choose me, Harras Harlaw, as the king.”

When the Lord finished his speech, Aeron raised his hands, demanding attention. 

“You will have a few moments to consider your choice. After that, I will call their names. Call for the one that suits you most.”

He smirked.

“Unless... there are others with claim?”

A murmur rose while the seas roared against the cliff and he could hear out some voices, but no one stepped forward.

“What about Yara Greyjoy?”

“Thought it to be more important to lick the new queen's feet.”

Aeron raised his hand again, demanding silence.

“She is not here and thus, cannot state her claim.”

The waves' roar got louder in the background, and he was about to call the first name

“... what the fuck is that?”

Aeron turned his gaze upward, where a black point was untangling itself from the clouds, shooting downwards with the sun in it's back.

“A large bird, apparently.”

But when it got closer, something was off.   
It was no bird.  
The creature unfolded it's wings, roaring, a cry of fear came even from the guts of the toughest Captain.  
It was a black dragon, larger than two of their greatest ships. And it circled the cliff once, roaring again, before it steered directly for them. As it approached, the Ironborn made way, not wanting to be too close to it.  
And while Aeron despised such a show of weakness, he couldn't deny that this... thing demanded respect and fear in equal amount.   
He swallowed when it landed directly next to the Lords, roaring at them and having them make way even more.   
That's when he noticed two figures on it's back, one in grey clothes, one in white. Showing no fear, they grey-cloaked figure jumped off, landing at the beast's shoulder and confidently walking towards the assembled Lords.

“My name is Yara Greyjoy, daughter of Balon Greyjoy, and I claim the Salt Throne.”

 

–

 

_“They'll hold the Kingsmoot tomorrow.”_

_“What?! How is this even possible?”_

_“It appears one of Euron's former men sent a letter to Aeron Damphair to inform him of the former King's passing. They have wasted no time in preparing to choose their next leader, it seems.”_

_“How can they? I'm a captain of the Iron Fleet, I demand my vote.”_

_“Oh, Aeron wrote that... “It is my duty to inform her on her right to vote in the Kingsmoot, however, should she be absent, I'm afraid we cannot wait. The Iron Isles need their new leader to clean up the chaos that was left.” It seems they deliberately chose a date on which you couldn't be there.”_

_Yara slammed her hand down on the mattress._

_“That little, shitfaced...”_

_She was about to shout out all of her anger when she felt a touch at her cheek._

_“Yara.”_

_Daenerys' voice rang to her ears, and when she turned around, the queen was wearing an expression of confidence._

_“You will attend tomorrow.”_

_“How the fuck am I supposed to travel there in less than a day?”_

_“With Drogon, of course. We'll fly after dinner.”_

_“...what?”_

_“I promised to return the favor, did I not?”_

_Yara stared at Daenerys with disbelief and gratefulness alike in her eyes, mind racing through a thousand thoughts, but one of them dominating it all._

_“I love you.”_

_Daenerys smiled, but just a moment afterwards, Tyrion cleared his throat._

_“As much as I hate interrupting a tender moment, do you really think it wise to fly her to the Iron Isles? You might not be as welcome there, your grace.”_

_“If we fail to put her on the Salt Throne, the Ironborn might continue their way of life as it was before. Yara is our greatest chance of creating a lasting peace.”_

_“And what if you're too late?”_

_Yara looked up, determined._

_“We'll turn around and find a solution. Could always take the Islands again. It's better if we don't have to, though.”_

_Tyrion sighed._

_“I suppose it will work, as long as it's the two of you.”_

_“Then let us waste no time. Tyrion, send for the servants to place some meat outside for Drogon. Order them to pack Yara's clothes and two for me and put them in the courtyard. And let them bring enough supplies for a week.”_

_“Your grace.”_

_Tyrion bowed, leaving the room, and Yara turned her gaze back to Daenerys._

_“I could kiss you for that. Again. And again. And again until you forget your own name.”_

_The queen smiled, placing a chaste one on Yara's cheek._

_“I'm counting on it. But we need to get dressed and eat now. We can't waste a minute.”_

_Yara nodded, standing up from the bed and retrieving her things from the bathroom and redressing herself. As she walked out of the door, she smirked at the Stormborn another time._

_“Don't think this is over.”_

_“I wouldn't dream of it.”_

_Their things had been packed just an hour later, and both of them were dressed for a long flight, their stomachs full._   
_She and Daenerys walked out of the Keep together, and when the Ironborn nudged the Stormborn, their eyes met._

_“Whatever shall we do on that flight?”_

_“We'll talk the politics we were supposed to earlier.”_

_“You were the one who invited me to the bath.”_

_“And I don't regret a moment of that.”_

_Tyrion approached them, inclining his head._

_“Any last orders for me, your grace?”_

_"No. I trust your capabilities.”_

_“Thank you. And Lady Greyjoy?”_

_“Nothing... no, please apologize to Arya Stark that I won't be able to continue our training.”_

_He nodded._

_“But tell her to practice her moves, then maybe I can let her train on my ship the next time. She'll know what I mean by that.”_

_“I will.”_

_“But tell her to practice her moves, then maybe I can let her train on my ship the next time. She'll know what I mean by that.”_

_“Good luck, Yara.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_Daenerys turned to him, smiling._

_“I trust you can handle the city in my absence?”_

_“We can certainly, as long as you don't take too long. This city will need it's queen.”_

_“And the Iron Isles need theirs. Don't worry.”_

_“Very well. Safe travels, your grace.”_

_Both gave him a smile before turning back to the dragon. When she saw Yara's expression, Daenerys chuckled. The dragon queen walked up to her son, who lowered himself to the ground, allowing her to climb up and sit on him. She extended a hand back to Yara, as Drogon eyed her expectantly and snorted._   
_Yara swallowed and then went to him, climbing up with far less grace than Daenerys and took her hand when she was high enough, taking a seat behind her and holding onto her waist._

_“Soves.”_

 

–

 

She grinned when she saw the expressions of the men assembled on the Kingsmoot, eyeing her in disbelief and Drogon in fear.  
She'd have to thank Daenerys later for allowing her such an entrance. And again for even making it possible she'd be here.  
But as it was, she strode into the middle of the circle, raising her hands to her sides and looking  
around the circle.

“The Ironborn are a great people, are we not? We honor strength. We honor courage. We turn away from weakness, and we do not sow!”

The people murmured in agreement, some cheered, and she felt Daenerys’ eyes on her back.  
No more.

“And look where that brought us. We have become the most hated of all Seven Kingdoms. They don’t see our greatness. Our strength. Sure, the people of Westeros remember our little rebellion and our kings. But while everyone in Essos knows the names Targaryen, Lannister or even Stark, no one  
respects or even knows the Greyjoy name. I’ve been there. I’ve seen it.”

The people are dead silent.

“We’ve raided, and reaved, and raped, and look where we stand now. Our fleet - destroyed! Our people - dead! Our rebellions have been utterly crushed whenever we tried to seperate from the Iron Throne, and I say NO MORE!”

She left a short break, and a smile spread on her face.

“I’ve brought you a gift, Ironborn. I was the first Greyjoy to sow. I struck a pact with Daenerys Targaryen, the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms, by claim and by conquest. If I helped her to get the throne, she would help me get mine. Not as a guardian, or a Lady, but as a queen myself. I’ve brought you what we always fought for: Our independence.”

The murmurs arose again, hopeful, and she heard Drogon growl in the background.

“But at what price?”

Yara chuckled. 

“Yes, there is a price. We are to respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. We are to change our ways. No more raiding, reaving, or raping.”

“That is unacceptable! She will not take our culture away!”

Aeron stomped towards her, fury on his face. She huffed. 

“I wasn’t done, uncle.”

“Yes you were! It is not just that you’ll be a woman on the throne, but you’ll take our identity away! What are we going to be if not Ironborn?”

“Dead! If we continue our way of life as it was, she will come and bring her army. She will come and bring her dragon. And she will take our islands with fire and blood.”

Drogon roared in the background, and she saw fear come up in the Ironborns’ eyes.

“The kraken will be respected and cherished, but not hated any longer. We can use our force to protect. To trade. To fight our enemies. We will be respected within Westeros and Essos. Queen Daenerys will give us lands at the coast to grow our own crops. There is iron below these isles that no one cared to mine until now. There are more fish in the water than we need for ourselves. We will build new ships. We will sail the seven seas once more.   
And if you say that is not enough, let me remind you that I’ve conquered these isles once before. Most of you sailed under me and know who I am.   
These Kingdoms are in for a new generation, a new future. And I say we can do that too! I say we can have the greatest fleet in the known world! I say our names can be remembered not as the last of the Ironborn, but as the first of the new!”

The crowd cheered once.

“I say fuck the ones who think we're unable to change! Fuck those who underestimate our will! Fuck those who only see us as raiders with nothing else to call their own! Fuck those who think our independence is a bad thing! Fuck them all! Let's prove them Ironborn still means something! That we will fight for our future as well! That we can truly be the greatest kingdom of seafarers in the whole known world!”

The crowd had begun to cheer more and more for her, with every sentence.

“I will prove any ruler that they better remember who we are when we sail on their coasts! Who's with me?”

The erupting cheer was louder than Drogon, something the dragon sought to remedy. He raised his head and roared with them.

“YARA! YARA! YARA!”

She grinned.

 

–

 

Daenerys watched from a cliff as Yara, without her armor and cloak, was led to the beach. She'd heard a little about the crowning ceremony, that she was supposed to be drowned and if she awoke, be reborn as the true queen.   
She didn't quite like it.  
The Greyjoy looked up to her, locking eyes a last time and smiling. She smiled back, although she was more than a little nervous.

Yara knelt in the water, head out to the open sea, Aeron Damphair at her side. Without warning, he pushed her head under the water and held it there.

“Let Yara, your servant, be born again from the sea as you were. Bless her with salt. Bless her with stone. Bless her with steel. Listen to the waves, listen to the god. He is speaking to us, and he says “We shall have no queen but Yara Greyjoy.” Let the sea wash your follies and your vanities away. Let the old Yara drown. Let her lungs fill with sea water. Let the fish eat the scales off her eyes. What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!”

He stepped back from the body that dimpled on the surface, motionless.   
Part of Daenerys insides twisted in worry.  
Two Ironborn dragged Yara out of the water and onto the beach, Aeron following them. They put her in the middle of the people that had gathered, against the sand, and waited. She didn't move.  
Drogon, next to her, got visibly unsettled, clawing at the rock.

Then, she spat out the water, taking in strong, desperate breaths and filled her lungs with air again.   
The Stormborn released a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and put a hand on her dragon's side.

“She's alive. She's alive.”

Drogon made a noise similar to purring. 

Yara had turned to all fours, chocking out more seawater, before she sat back on her knees. Her uncle stepped to the side and retrieved a crown made from driftwood to place it on her head.

“What is dead may never die.”

The Ironborn gathered repeated the words, and Yara rose to her feet.

“But rises again, harder and stronger.”

They cheered for her again, louder this time, and next to her, Drogon raised his head to the sky, swung his wings and made a roar that spoke of triumph. A smile spread on Daenerys face, and she walked up to the new queen, who turned to her with an equal expression on her face.  
Both looked into each others eyes for a second, and then Daenerys inclined her head in respect.

“Your Majesty.”

Yara seemed to be taken aback by that, and the Ironborn murmured among themselves. But soon after, their leader caught herself again and stepped closer to Daenerys, smiling.  
She could see a swirl of emotion in her eyes – love, victory, pride – and it made her feel warm inside.  
She'd love to kiss Yara right now, but both of them knew that wouldn't be a good idea. Instead, Yara turned to her people.

“Is there a feast prepared?”

Most of them made confirming nods or words.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The Ironborn cheered, and turned to walk away to the shore to sail to Pyke.

“Meet you there?”

Yara asked, nodding in Drogon's direction.

“I'll be sailing with you, if you don't mind. He will need time to rest and hunt.”

Yara smiled.

“I won't mind. Come on, I'll show you my lovely home.”

Their trip to Pyke was pleasant for most of the time, if a little cold. Yara, still dripping wet, tried not to show it, but shivered a little. But she pointed out all the landmarks and islands to her, giving a little information on her people and their customs. Daenerys listened with great interest, occasionally asking for more.   
She now understood why the Ironborn had become such raiders, as they didn't have that much. But Yara had sworn to change it.  
When they arrived at Pyke, the Ironborn remained in the village where their underlings had waited, while Yara and Daenerys rode up to the castle.

“This brings back memories, you know?”

“What?”

“Riding up here with someone behind me. Last time I did it was with my brother.”

Yara chuckled.

“He didn't recognize me at first and promised me a homecoming I would tell my grandchildren about.”

“He... made advances?”

The Ironborn laughed quietly.

“You could say so as well. The look on his face when he recognized me... by the Drowned God, I won't ever forget that.”

“I can imagine. I had a similar situation when I got the Unsullied.”

“How so?”

“The one who sold them to me kept calling me things like “bitch” and “slut” in Valyrian, or said he'd give me a discount because I had nice tits.”

“Who wouldn't give a discount for that?”

“Yara!”

Daenerys hit her arm, and the Greyjoy just laughed more.

“Anyway. I gave him Drogon in exchange for the Unsullied, and when he screamed that “the beast won't come”, I told him “a dragon is no slave” in my mother tongue... I'll never forget that either.”

“Another thing I would pay for to see.”

“Another? What else?”

“Hmm... seeing you come out of the burning Dothraki Temple.”

“Where did you pick up that story?”

“I drank with Daario once or twice and he bragged a little.”

“I... see.”

Yara chuckled again before turning ahead.

“Look. Pyke.”

Daenerys turned her head to what the Iron Queen was pointing at. Towers stood on single columns of stone, connected by what looked like...

“...rope bridges?”

Yara chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Isn't that a little unsafe?”

“Maybe. I've grown up with it.”

Daenerys shook her head and then leaned it against Yara's back, listening to her breath and her heartbeat.

“...when are you going to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning, I suppose.”

“Is that a hint for me not drinking too much tonight?”

“Maybe.”

Yara smirked, pressing her thighs to the horse and urging it to a gallop.

“Impatient, are we?”

“No. Just eager to get out of those wet clothes.”

She laughed, and after a moment, the new queen laughed with her.

 

–

 

She had shown Daenerys through the halls of Pyke, smiling at how the Targaryen was looking at everything with interest on her face. The great hall had been prepared with plates for a large celebration, but they went past that, up the Great Keep and to Yara's former rooms that miraculously still held some of her clothes.

“Euron probably didn't bother enough to throw those out.”

“Seems like it.”

Yara undressed swiftly, and Daenerys averted her eyes, making the Ironborn grin.

“Why so shy? You've seen it all.”

“I wanted to give you some privacy.”

“I don't need that with you around.”

Yara looked at Daenerys, pure honesty shining in her eyes, and the Stormborn closed her eyes and smiled.

“Your love disarms me, Yara Greyjoy.”

Now it would be Yara's turn to smile, but instead she stepped towards Daenerys, pants changed but upper body still bare, and kissed her deeply, wrapping her arms around her waist. Daenerys kissed back with a little gasp, taken aback by the passion behind it, and tentatively placed her hands on Yara's shoulders. 

“You can touch me, you know.”

She murmured into the kiss before pulling Daenerys closer to her, letting her own hands wander over the back of her coat, down to the small of her back, and just let them rest there albeit moving her fingers a bit.  
The Stormborn moved her hands around Yara's neck and tangled them into her hair, holding onto her scalp and tugging her even closer to deepen the kiss further.  
When they parted, both were a little breathless, leaning their foreheads against one another.

“If there wouldn't be that damn celebration soon...”

Daenerys smiled at her statement, giving her another quick kiss.

“Later.”

She huffed, waling back to the wardrobe and pulling a shirt out, pulling it on before both of them left for her party.   
It was a huge affair. All the captains and Lords who had cheered for her were there, and even those who hadn't had come to attend. Yara sat at the center of the table, Daenerys on her right, and all of the Ironborn drank and ate, celebrated and shared stories of themselves... or her.

“Remember when Yara told that Lannister fucker to go fuck himself?”

“What?”

“So during the War of the Five Kings, we were sailing, a beautiful day it was. Suddenly, there was this Lannister ship signaling us to stop, so she ordered us to to see what this fuss was about. Turns out, that fucker wanted us to contribute our stuff to the “War Effort” against the Northern Rebellion, and there she stood, half a head taller than that fishface, and told him he could suck his own cock.”

Daenerys chuckled and turned to her.

“And what happened then?”

Yara laughed gently.

“He stood there for a moment – you should've seen his face – before he demanded to see our captain as his “whore” was speaking out of line. I punched his face, stepped on his neck and said “I am the captain, you shitface.” He was silent again for a moment and then ordered his men to capture our ship. I sent him to the Drowned God with his own dick in his mouth.”

Daenerys shook her head. 

“So... err... your majesty, aye?”

When the Stormborn looked up again, she met the eyes of a sailor.

“Did ye really mean it that you'd burn us down if we went back to the old ways?”

She exchanged a look with Yara, who nodded subtly.

“I did. I have taken King's Landing. I have taken Casterly Rock. I will take Pyke as well, should I need to.”

The captain nodded, satisfied.

“I like this one, Yara. Better than the last fucker on the throne.”

Yara chuckled.

“I know.”

Daenerys leaned closer to her to whisper in her ear.

“They like me?”

“You paid the Iron Price for your lands – took them with the blood of your enemies. They respect that. Also, you have a dragon.”

The Stormborn snorted.

“Why, yes I have.”

The celebration continued until past midnight, when people slowly started leaving for their ships or their homes or the brothels of Lordsport and the rest were drunkenly bellowing out jests or exaggerated tales, some already passed out on the tables. Daenerys was currently listening to an old captain telling a story of his travels to Lys and the Free Cities, and Yara watched her in silence.  
She was so beautiful.   
Gorgeous.  
Her laugh was the most wonderful sound she'd ever heard, and seeing her wicked grin made her mind run with images that made her bite her lip. She remained content watching the queen, before an idea sprang to the front of her head.  
She reached out under the table without anyone noticing. Her hand found the Stormborn's thigh and she let her fingers wander on it, with a light pressure that enhanced the sensations she was feeling.   
The Stormborn's head flew to her.

“Yara!”

When their eyes met, Yara smirked, raising an eyebrow as a subtle question to continue. Reverting her eyes back to the captain, Daenerys gave the most subtle of nods, and Yara scooted closer to her, pretending to be interested in the tale as well. Focusing on something entirely else, she slowly let her fingers wander to the inside of Daenerys' leg, not too close to her core but close enough for her to feel some form of touch. She applied more pressure there, grin widening when she saw Daenerys subtly biting her lip, trying to focus on the story again but not signaling her to stop.  
Oh, how she would wreck this queen later.  
Yara let her fingers draw circles, wandering higher and higher on the leg, enjoying the way Daenerys' breath hitched when the knuckle of her thumb 'accidentally' brushed her clit.  
She witnessed the Stormborn's head turning to her, and met her eyes, smirking. The hunger in them did not really surprise her, but it still made her own rise higher.  
Yara looked to the exit once and raised her eyebrow in question, and Daenerys nodded.   
Wordlessly, Yara stood up and nodded to her captains, who nodded back, and moved to the exit. Daenerys followed behind her, moving down the corridor to Yara's chambers. 

Once inside, Yara pinned the queen to the door, kissing her passionately and letting her hands wander down on her body until she put them at her hips, massaging her hipbones while deepening the kiss even more. Daenerys tangled one of hers in the Ironborn's hair again, the other placed between her shoulder blades to keep their bodies aligned.   
But Daenerys wanted to feel her skin. She tugged at the fastenings of Yara's shirt, loosening them up until Yara untangled from her for a moment, pulling the garment over her head before kissing her again. She let one of her hands wander up from the Stormborn's hipbones to her breasts, kneading it between her fingers and making Daenerys shiver and dig her own hands in, and before she could control it, one of the Targaryen's legs wrapped around her, pulling her even closer, not realizing she'd given her the best advantage Yara could ever have dreamed of. 

Yara broke the kiss and looked into Daenerys' eyes, smirking, ignoring the Stormborn's tries to pull her in for another kiss. Instead, her own leg came up between Daenerys', pressing gently, and she felt a shiver run through her when the Stormborn's head fell back against the door and she bit her lip to not make a noise.   
Delicious.   
She rhythmically moved her leg against Daenerys' core, slowly, wanting that control to slip, waiting patiently and tantalizingly her softly with just enough pressure to stoke the flames.  
She took her hands into the slow torture, massaging her breast with one and moving the other to grab her butt, pressing with all of her palm over the clothes, and moving her head to kiss the queen's jaw.

“Yara... touch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm evil.   
> I know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to eep you all waiting! Hope the result's worth it.  
> I'll try to have the next update up as soon as I can!

Daenerys' voice was desperate as she bucked her hips at Yara's leg, who immediately moved it back a little so the Stormborn wouldn't get the friction she sought, smirking into the skin at her neck.

“I am touching you.”

Just to confirm her point, she got a little rougher with her hands, making Daenerys groan.  
Oh, Yara definitely loved that noise.

“Not what I... meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Daenerys hands practically forced her head upwards so their gazes could meet.

“You know exactly what I meant.”

Yara smirked and let her fingertips wander to Daenerys' nipple, gently circling it, enjoying the way the dragon queen bit her lip. 

“You got me there.”

She resumed her previous actions, but with more purpose, focusing on driving the queen even more mad with need. She moved her thigh up again, this time with enough pressure to give Daenerys what she so desperately had sought.  
The following noise had her bite back a moan as well. 

“Yara... don't stop.”

She chuckled.

“As much fun as fucking you against a door would be, I want to have all of you.”

Without further words, Yara moved her arms to carry Daenerys to the bed, ignoring the surprised gasp and lowering her on top of it, but she stood for a second longer to rid herself of her shirt. Throwing it carelessly into the room, she moved to join the Stormborn, but stopped when she saw the look on her face.

“...what?”

“Nothing. Can't I enjoy looking at the woman who'll promised to make me scream her name?”

“Hush, you.”

She didn't want to admit how partially flustered that comment made her. 

“Didn't I also promise I'd take your breath away?”

Yara joined Daenerys on the bed, moving over her, chuckling when the Stormborn spread her legs so her own could be inbetween. Daenerys smiled, slinging her arms around Yara's neck.

“You might have.”

“I better start then, shouldn't I?”

“I won't be complaining.”

Matching smirks rested on both their faces, so she leaned down, joining their lips together, encouraged by Daenerys' insistent tugging at her neck. It started slow, not as desperate as the ones at the door had been. Yara felt the Targaryen's hands wander on her upper body, down on her shoulders, up again to her shoulder blades, but she paid it almost no mind.   
Not when her own hands were busy trying to find the fastenings on Daenerys' dress, undoing every single one she could find, feeling the garment loosening under her touch.   
She broke the kiss and looked into the Stormborn's eyes for any hint of doubt, and when finding none, she pulled the dress off, revealing her upper body bare beneath. She hummed in approval, trailing her kisses lower again, over her jaw to her throat, where she nibbled at the skin, albeit not hard enough to leave marks.  
Although the idea of that was appealing...   
And yet she doubted Daenerys would like that. So she kept her teeth light, teasing, her hands gently stroking the Stormborn's sides with the ghost of a touch.

“I... thought you wanted to start.”

She could hear the light panting in Daenerys' voice, and smirked.

“I have.”

“Can't feel much of that.”

“Would you rather have this?”

With those words, one of Yara's hands left Daenerys' side to firmly press against her core, making the Stormborn's back arch and a cry leave her lips, so she was panting even harder when Yara put it back at her side.

“... precisely... that.”

Oh, how she enjoyed hearing her voice in this state.  
She kissed her way even lower, trailing her lips over Daenerys' clavicle, her hands wandering up to gently place themselves on her breasts. 

“I still need to worship your body first.”

“You could always skip that.”

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?”

“Having me scream your name sooner?”

“Oh, that will happen soon enough, don't worry.”

“I could touch you sooner.”

“I don't need that.”

She murmured, kissing the top of Daenerys' breasts.

“But what if I wish to?”

“I won't deny your request... that is, if you still can do that afterwards.”

“Someone's sure of herself.”

“Experience, love. Experience.”

“You still need to prove that.”

“How about this. I'm going to worship your body and make you so desperate you can only think of how much you want me. Then, I'll have you wait a little longer.”

Yara leaned up, her hands gripping tighter, one of her legs slowly applying pressure between the queen's. She moved her lips close to Daenerys' ear, kissing below it before whispering the rest.

“And then, I'm going to fuck you. Hard. Gentle. Relentlessly. However you like it. I'll make you scream until you can't remember your titles. And if you have the energy left afterwards, then you can have a turn.”

The stifled moan from Daenerys' lips was enough to know her plan seemed good. She pressed a kiss to the underside of the Stormborn's ear, chuckling to herself, still continuing to move her leg between Daenerys', grinning when the queen tried to meet her with movements of her own.   
The soft little gasps made up for spoiling her plan of not giving anything but teasing touches for now.  
Yara moved to hover over Daenerys again, their eyes meeting for a moment until the Targaryen's head fell back and she closed her eyes when the Greyjoy let both of her hands roll her nipples simultaneously with her leg movement. Yara kissed Daenerys' throat again, this time moving down faster, grinning at the frustrated noise that left the queen when she had to reposition her leg.

“Yara...”

“Yes?”

She looked up from just above Daenerys' breasts, holding her gaze while still moving down, and when the queen set to answer, she replaced one of her hands with her mouth and nipped.  
The reply got replaced by a cry, fading into more panting when Yara replaced her teeth with her tongue and kisses, paying attention to the one nipple first and then the other, using her hands to toy with the one her mouth wasn't on, all while watching Daenerys' face display a mix of pleasure and frustration. She especially liked the way she bit her lip occasionally, and how her hands clawed into her when she made certain movements with her tongue.   
As she moved lower on her body, Daenerys sighed, making Yara grin into the kiss she pressed into her stomach. Her hands wandered lower to her hipbones, and she massaged those, looking up and meeting the queen's gaze. When she arrived at the queen's smallclothes, Yara stopped.

“Go ahead.”

She chuckled at the light commanding tone that had crept back into the Stormborn's voice.

“As you wish.”

Holding her gaze, Yara unfastened the strings on the garment, pulling it off without having to look once. She moved to kiss one of the hipbones she just had touched, trailing her hand down at the outside of Daenerys' thigh instead, relishing the way her breath hitched. Kissing the way over to the other hipbone, she stopped when the queen giggled.

“What?”

“That tickles.”

Yara chuckled, and in a fluid movement positioned herself above Daenerys entirely again, lips inches apart. 

“Better?”

Daenerys' hummed in approval and then wrapped her arms around Yara, pulling herself up so their lips could meet in a gentle, but still passionate kiss. The Ironborn smiled into it, one of her hands wandering down on the queen's body to the outside of her thigh, where her short nails drew a pattern on the skin, making Daenerys' breath hitch.   
She very much loved feeling that noise on her lips.   
Slowly, she let her fingers slide over the Targaryen's leg, dragging them closer and closer to her core. When Daenerys' fingers clawed into her sides, she gasped, feeling the queen smirk into the kiss in response.   
Instead of dwelling on that, she just drew her fingers higher, stopping when she could sense the heat coming from her core. Daenerys bucked her hips, unable to get anything from the touch on her leg, and broke the kiss, a frustrated noise leaving her. 

“Want me to go on?”

She whispered into the kiss, drawing small patterns on the soft skin of the Targaryen's inner thigh. 

“Yes.”

The word was a breathless gasp accompanied by her hips bucking again, and Yara smiled, kissing her again and slowly moving higher until her fingers found their goal. 

“Fuck, Daenerys.”

She let her fingers trail through the wet softness that was the queen's core, listening to her soft noises and feeling her breath on her lips.  
Then, she chuckled, unbelieving.

“I don't think any woman has ever been so wet for me.”

The short, panting laugh that left the queen was replaced by a whimper when her fingers found her clit and pressed down on it.   
She tried out a few movements, rolling it between her fingertips, flicking over it, keeping her fingers on it and applying various amounts of pressure to find out what she seemed to like most.  
Another bonus of that was listening to all the noises the queen made, feeling her body arch off the sheets and her hands digging into her. She opted for keeping it between two of her fingers and moving them from side to side, setting a rather quick pace for the start already, knowing she had teased the queen long enough.  
Daenerys pulled herself closer to Yara's upper body, clinging to her as she felt her strength, bucking her hips into her touch and moaning into her ear.   
Yara groaned into her shoulder in response. She had never been this turned on herself.  
When she fastened her movements even more, the Stormborn arched her back, giving her the chance to teasingly nip on her collar bone, her other arm slipping around the queen's waist to keep them aligned.   
Daenerys' breath came out harder, a moan accompanying almost every exhale, and she bucked her hips, trying to get even more of Yara's touch. 

“Don't... stop...”

Yara chuckled into her shoulder.

“Now, that would be cruel, wouldn't it?”

“Don't you... dare-”

The rest of her sentence got swallowed when Yara picked up pace even more, turning into a scream, Daenerys' hands clawing into Yara, her hips bucking even more.   
The Greyjoy sensed she was close and kept going.   
Making her beg would come another time. 

“Yara... I-”

“Shh. I know.”

Yara turned her head to kiss Daenerys' neck, holding her tight in her arms while her fingers relentlessly continued, listening to her cries and feeling her tense up more and more.  
She smiled and gently kissed the soft skin again when the queen went stiff in her arms, screaming out in pleasure as she came.   
Yara grinned despite herself, slowing her touches and letting Daenerys sink down on the sheets gently before taking her hand away, listening to the queen slowly catching her breath and positioning herself on her side next to her. She took her own fingers into her mouth, humming at the taste, and when she looked back to the queen, found purple eyes regarding her.

“Daario never did that.”

“He never got a taste of you?”

The Targaryen shook her head, and Yara chuckled disbelievingly before she moved between Daenerys' legs again.

“...Yara?”

“Did you really think I would only have you come once?”

The slight blush that formed on the Targaryen's cheeks made her smirk.

“If you're up for it.”

Daenerys nodded, biting back a moan when Yara's palm found her core and the Greyjoy kissed her nipples. But her mouth didn't stop there. Yara kissed down her body again, not stopping at her hips but instead moving lower until she pressed a kiss to the top of the Stormborn's mound.

“What are you doing?”

“You never had a tongue on your cunt?”

“Wha- no.”

“A shame. Looks like I'll be your first.”

Daenerys swallowed at the heat in Yara's gaze that caused her own to build up more rapidly.  
The imagination alone...   
She bit back another moan, holding her eyes on Yara's but couldn't help but close them when Yara sucked on her clit.

Her promises had been truthful.  
Daenerys did forget her titles that night.

 

–

 

Warmth.  
It was warm when she woke up. She felt safe, protected, and incredibly good, until a dull throb reminded her of last night.  
Right.  
Yara.  
She had made her finish no less than five times that night, and some of the memories alone would be keeping her good company. She hadn't even known some of what Yara did would feel so good...  
Her sleep had been dreamless from exhaustion.  
She smiled, cuddling more into the body behind her, expression widening when the Greyjoy's arms tightened around her subconsciously. Daenerys moved one of her arms behind herself, letting it wander over Yara's side, feeling the body of the woman who brought so much light into her life.  
Her sun and stars, truly.

“...that tickles...”

Daenerys breath came as an amused snort to Yara's sleepy voice.

“I'm sorry, your majesty.”

A grumpy noise came from behind her, making her smile even more.

“Is it even morning yet?”

“It is.”

“Fuck that.”

Daenerys chuckled, and sighed softly when Yara pulled her even closer and adjusted her body to fit her own to gently stroke over her arm.

“No one will be up before midday.”

“We are.”

“We shouldn't be.”

She chuckled again, turning around in Yara's arms to look into one sleepily opened eye.

“Why'd you turn?”

“Shouldn't I have?”

The Greyjoy huffed and then opened her mouth to yawn, stretching her arms and legs as good as she could before opening both of her eyes this time. 

“How do you feel?”

The smirk on Yara's face made her turn her head away for a second.

“Quite good.”

She smirked herself, widening a little when Yara chuckled.

“Quite? I need to do better next time.”

“I think you already did... amazing.”

“You haven't even seen some of the things I could still do.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Yara snorted.

“Whether you're up for it, of course.”

She laughed gently, placing a hand on Yara's cheek. Her heart made a little skip when the Greyjoy all so slightly leaned into her touch.

“We'll see about that, won't we?”

Yara chuckled, letting her own hand wander over Daenerys' side. 

“Promise.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, before she broke the gaze, instead scooting closer and cuddling into Yara's shoulder as the Ironborn turned onto her back and held her in her arms.

“What will you do now that you're queen?”

“Gather some materials for the ships. You mentioned problems with Tully, so we can't just go for the wood just now. See what needs to be rebuilt here. Look for the iron, maybe.”

“Shall I send some ships for you?”

“My Ironborn should arrive within the week, so you don't have to. You still can, though, if you want to.”

“If you need something, just ask.”

“Mh. Same for you. What will you do once you go back?”

“See to the town further. Question Cersei and Ser Jaime. Prepare my coronation and the trial.”

“It's in about a month, right?”

“I'll send you a letter two and a half weeks prior.”

Yara hummed in appreciation.

I wouldn't miss that for my life.”

“I hope so.”

“Looking forward to all those dickhead's faces when they see there's not only one, but two queens around.”

She laughed. 

“It might be hard not to show my amusement.”

“We can enjoy it as soon as we're alone.”

“I think when we're alone then, those men's faces will be the last thing on our mind.”

Yara chuckled, moving so she was halfway on top of her, lips inches apart.

“Is that so?”

Instead of replying, she kissed the Ironborn, her hands wandering up her bare back to rest on her shoulder blades. With a soft hum, Yara returned the kiss, one of her hands starting to massage Daenerys' hip.  
Her breath hitched, legs tensing as she remembered what those fingers had done.

“Again?”

Her voice came out in a quick breath, making Yara chuckle into the kiss.

“If you're up for it. I can't get enough of you for sure.”

Daenerys nodded then, relishing the feel of Yara's hand wandering higher, but winced as soon as the Ironborn touched her nipples gently.   
The Greyjoy immediately stopped her motion and broke the kiss.

“Are you alright?”

She turned her gaze away when she realized what was the issue.

“... I'm sore.”

For a moment, Yara just looked at her, taking in the news, before she began laughing, rolling over on her back. She stared at the Ironborn, speechless.

“What is so funny about that?”

Yara just kept laughing, but tried to calm down. She became a little irritated, but swallowed it.

“It's just... you've been with a Khal. And a mercenary. And you're too sore after a night with me?”

Daenerys chuckled.

“I've woken up sore more times than this morning.”

“What a shame.”

“However, no one ever made a night so much about me as you did yesterday.”

It was true. Daario or Drogo had always demanded their own desires to be fulfilled, Drogo had even prioritized his over hers. Other women had told her of similar things. 

“Yara?”

“Hm?”

“Did you even...?”

“What?”

Daenerys gestured to her, and Yara chuckled, shaking her head.

“I don't need to. I wanted yesterday to be about you. Also, there's no better thing than listening to your breath hitching while I fuck you.”

She frowned.

“I don't intend to be selfish in bed.”

“You aren't.”

She cleared her throat, looking at Yara, who returned the gaze with a smirk. She stretched her arms out above her head, feeling the Ironborn's gaze wandering over her, and let herself fall back into her arms, back resting against her front.

“You really make it hard to leave the bed, you know.”

“Good.”

To Yara's blunt answer, she chuckled, turning her head to kiss the Greyjoy's bicep.

“But I have to, soon.”

“Why?”

“I need to get back to King's Landing. I have six Kingdoms to rebuild.”

Yara turned on her back and sighed, and she turned around to look at her. Their eyes met, and slowly, Daenerys lifted herself to hover over Yara and kiss her softly. The Ironborn returned the kiss, pulling her halfway on top of her and tilting her own head to allow Daenerys better access. She hummed at that, cupping one of Yara's cheeks with her hand.   
They lazily kissed for a few minutes, until she broke the contact, looking into Yara's eyes.

“Believe me, it's tempting to stay.”

Yara chuckled.

“We both have our crowns. And responsibilities.”

“Oh my, Yara Greyjoy being responsible?”

A husky laugh came from Yara as she shoo her head.

“You have an influence on people.”

Daenerys smiled, surprised when Yara pecked her lips.

“I love you.”

She felt her smile widening, and felt the answer on her tongue, but swallowed it, instead leaning down and kissing her.   
When she pulled back, she saw Yara mirroring her expression.

“Breakfast?”

She snorted, pecking Yara's cheek a last time before moving up from the bed.

“That sounds good.”

She pushed herself up from the bed, rolling her eyes at the smirk she got from Yara when she saw her naked again.

“I'd think you'd have no reason to smirk like that anymore.”

“Just because I fucked you, it doesn't mean I can't appreciate the sight.”

She shook her head, walking over to her bag and taking out fresh underclothes, slipping into them and retrieving her dress from the floor.  
Oh, right.  
Usually, servants put those on for her.

“Yara?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any servants to help me get dressed?”

“... that's a good question. I always got dressed myself. As for my father and Euron... I don't know.”

She cleared her throat, clearing her throat.

“Want me to help you?”

Her eyes flew open, and she looked at Yara in shock.

“You're not a servant. You're a queen.”

Yara chuckled.

“As if I'd care. Come here.”

The Ironborn stood up, and when she didn't move, walked over to her, plucking the dress from her hands and helping her slip into it before fastening the buttons for her.

“I gotta admit, undressing you is way more fun.”

“Did you just agree to help me so you could say that?”

“Perhaps. But also...”

Yara ran her hand along her front, applying just the right pressure to make her gasp.  
When she turned around, a shit-eating grin was on the Greyjoy's face.

“You're impossible.”

“Then let's get you away from me.”

That blow struck.  
She would be going. Leaving her behind.  
Yara must've noticed her expression, because she found herself wrapped in her arms just a second after.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know.”

Yara kissed the top of her head.

“I'll write you.”

She nodded, and took a deep breath, breaking free from the embrace, feeling Yara's concerned eyes on her, and smiled in response.

“Daenerys?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want the Ironborn to know of... us?”

She grimaced, and Yara nodded, before her expression turned into a smirk.

“So you admit there's something between us?”

“I never said there wouldn't be.”

“... right.”

“I've taken you to bed, Yara, and I plan on doing so more often in the future. I can at least call you my lover.”

Yara seemed to be speechless for a moment. 

”Lover?”

The choked voice made her chuckle.

“Yes, lover. Unless you’d prefer something else?”

“... I won’t.”

She smiled, flattered by how flustered Yara seemed.

“Thank you for understanding that I need this to be secret at the moment.”

“It’s alright.”

Yara kissed her neck, and she sighed.  
As nice as it would be to have the world know of their... bond, it wasn't the best choice at the moment.

“We will show them at some day.”

Yara smiled.

“Looking forward to it.”

She mirrored the Ironborn's expression, leaning against her.  
They would be fine.  
In some part of herself, she knew that.   
So she kissed Yara again, letting her hands roam over her skin.

“Yara?”

She murmured into the kiss, her hands massaging the Greyjoy's neck and scalp.

“Hmmm?”

“If we are going to keep this secret, we have to say goodbye here.”

“Don't remind me...”

Yara kissed her more hungrily, her hands roaming her body over the dress, making her gasp into the kiss. She pulled her closer, touching her back, her hips, her shoulders. Yara growled.

“You can touch me, you know.”

She smiled into the kiss, letting her hands wander down from Yara's shoulders.

“Oh, I do.”

A knock broke them apart.

“Queen Yara, your breakfast has been prepared.”

Yara broke the kiss, rolling her eyes and sighing. 

“I'll be there in a minute.”

“Oh, and we can't find the Dragon Queen. She was not in her room.”

“I have an idea where she might be. I'll bring her along.”

“Of course.”

When the servant's steps disappeared on the hallway, Yara groaned.

“Honestly. It's like pure luck made me able to fuck you yesterday.”

Daenerys snorted.

“Let's get you dressed.”

When Yara had all her clothes on, she turned to look at her standing next to the door. Without a word, she strode over, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her passionately enough to make her moan. She kissed back, pulling the Greyjoy closer and returning the kiss with all she could muster. When Yara groaned, a shiver ran through her, and when she gasped into the kiss, the Ironborn moved to pin her against the door again. But she put a hand on her chest, slowly pushing her away and smiling apologetically.

“We can't do more right now.”

The Greyjoy sighed.

“I know. I just... didn't want our last kiss to end, I guess.”

“Believe me, it was equally hard for me. But we have to...

Yara rolled her eyes, pecking her a last time.

“Fine.”

–

Breakfast was a rather dull affair, although she was able to make the Stormborn smile when she nudged her foot a few times, all the time while enjoying her meal as much as she could. Most of the attendants were still hungover and would go swim to cure themselves after the meal. And after that, well... she would give the new orders.  
But first, she would have to say goodbye. Sticking her fork into the next piece of fish with more force than needed, she glance to Daenerys, who ate in silence and looked around the room.

“They aren't so loud mouthed now, huh?”

Yara chuckled.

“Oh no. I used to be like that, too. Drinking until late in the night only to wish for the Drowned God to take me the next morning.”

She huffed.

“No wonder our cure for hangover is going for a swim.”

The implication made Daenerys giggle.

When they finished breakfast, she walked the queen out with the small bag they had packed, filled with a meal for underway. They went to the cliff in silence, walking as physically close as possible. She wanted to take the queen's hand, but didn't dare to. They waited on the cliff, looking down on Lordsport.   
From the corner of her eye, she saw Daenerys looking at her. 

“You'll be a good queen, Yara.”

“Thank you.”

Silence.   
Until she cleared her throat.

“I will miss you, Daenerys.”

The Stormborn smiled at her, making her mirror the expression.

“I will miss you too.”

From above, Drogon swooped down, circling the cliff once before landing in front of them. Yara smirked when the dragon looked at her before he turned his full attention to his mother.

“He'll never stop being so fierce, won't he?”

“It's good if he doesn't.” 

“I know.”

“He'll never stop being beautiful either.”

“Just like his mother.”

Daenerys smiled, turning her eyes to her. Drogon huffed, and she chuckled.

“Flatterer.”

“I'm just honest.”

The Stormborn shook her head, stepping closer. She huffed.

“So... this is it, huh?”

“Looks like it. But you'll be there for my coronation.”

“A month. Just a month, then we'll see again.”

“I know.”

Daenerys smirked a little before she extended her hand.

“Be safe.”

“Always. You too.”

“I will.”

“Daenerys?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

The Stormborn smiled, a beautiful expression that rivaled the sun itself, before she mounted the dragon.

“Goodbye, Queen Yara.”

“Goodbye, Queen Daenerys.”

The Targaryen nodded to her, still wearing that beautiful expression. Her love pressed her legs into the dragon, making him roar and look at Yara for a moment.   
She nodded at him.  
He blinked at her.  
Then he shook his body, tensing up and pushing himself into the air.  
Holding her gaze on Daenerys for as long as possible, she smiled, already feeling a pang of loss.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd be up to write a second part for this dealing with eventually the battle, but the aftermath for sure.  
> Depends how this one is perceived. ^^"


End file.
